


Requiem

by mauzymorn



Series: Omertà [2]
Category: Kingsman (Movies), The Smoke (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur!Harry, Barebacking, Explicit Sexual Content, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, mentioned human trafficking, past rent boy!Eggsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:54:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 91,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7660135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauzymorn/pseuds/mauzymorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/5397506">Laid to Rest</a></span>
</p>
<p>A mission comes up that Harry tries to keep Eggsy as far from as humanly possible - he somehow should have <em>known</em> that the young agent would end up involved despite his efforts. The whole affair becomes <em>infinitely</em> more complicated with the involvement of another young man from the Estates, which Harry hadn't foreseen.</p>
<p>He just hopes that they'll <em>all</em> make it out alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's here, you guys! (I know, I know... _finally_.) I hope you all enjoy this one just as much as _Laid to Rest_. 
> 
> For any concerns about triggering content, I will be updating the author's endnotes as things arise in the story, just as I did last time. Please take care of yourselves. 
> 
> I know we probably don't need to add these anymore, but... regardless. **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything _Kingsman_ related, and am writing this story purely for amusement and not for profit. Please don't sue me, I'm very very poor.

Harry came into Medical with a concerned frown, looking about two steps away from clucking like a mother hen. It took _a lot_ of willpower for Eggsy to keep from rolling his eyes.

“It’s just a scratch, love – stop actin’ like I’m _dyin’_.” The lines of the older man’s handsome face pressed even further into unhappiness.

“It is _not_ ‘just a scratch’ – twelve bloody stitches it a bit _more_ than a scratch, Eggsy!” This time, he couldn’t hold back – he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“ _Harry_. ‘ve had _worse_ , y’know. Ain’t nothin’.” And… _oh no_. Now Harry’s face was dropping into that particular sadness that it always got when he thought about Eggsy’s past and the things he’d suffered. Feeling equal parts warmth for the older gent’s concern and embarrassment at the circumstances, Eggsy reached out a hand to draw Harry nearer to where he was sat upon the side of the gurney bed. He pressed his face into Harry’s stomach, breathing in that _sandalwood amber warmth_ scent of him and finally letting the tightness in his shoulders loosen. He heard a sigh from above him, before one of Harry’s hands gripped him lightly by the back of the neck.

“You shall be the death of me, I think.” He murmured tiredly, and Eggsy couldn’t help but grin. Pressing a kiss to the older man’s stomach through his button down, he peeked up through his lashes.

“Then we’ll go together, guv.” It was enough to gain him a quiet breath of a laugh from Harry, and Eggsy basked in the peace that momentarily surrounded them. “…time’s it?” He nuzzled his face into Harry’s stomach a bit more, reluctant to move away. 

“Nearly midnight, darling. You should try to get some rest.”

“Ain’t gonna do no restin’ unless I’m _home_ , Harry. Fuckin’ _hate_ it in Medical.” He could practically hear the older man’s exasperation when he answered.

“Then perhaps you should put more effort in whilst on missions to _avoid the necessity of being here_.” Eggsy hid another grin, feeling Harry’s big hand tighten on the back of neck. 

“Take me home, Harry.” He made sure to pack his voice with all the heat that nearly three weeks away from the other man had produced, his grin widening as he felt Harry’s stomach muscles jump in surprise.

“You are _by no means_ in well enough shape for the kind of activity you are so clearly planning.” Harry’s voice was as smooth and unruffled as it always was, but after nearly a year of living with the man Eggsy could see through his bullshit. 

“Then you’ll just hafta do all the work then, won’ ya?”

* * *

Harry awoke to the feeling of Eggsy’s solid body wrapped around his back, warm breaths puffing against his neck. He sighed in contentment, having missed the young man _dearly_ while he’d been gone. It was an unfortunate necessity of the job, and it wasn’t as though Harry could use his position to _keep_ Eggsy home – not that the young agent would stand for that kind of behaviour in the first place. It was only that… well, Harry had never fully realized just how quiet and _dull_ his home life had been before Eggsy had come crashing into it. 

He tried to picture returning back to a life without the energetic young man, and to be quite frank… it _terrified_ him. 

Eggsy loved him, this he _knew_ – but Harry couldn’t quite help the small part of him that was waiting for the day that the boy wised up and realized that he’d saddled himself with nothing more than a tired old man. Harry didn’t consider himself an _overly_ vain person, usually, but it seemed that the closer time crept toward his fifty-third birthday, the more lines he noticed on his face and his hair seemed to be steadily showing more _grey_ than brown. 

He wondered how long it would be before the boy got tired of him. 

Eggsy cared more about _people_ than appearances, it was true – but _surely_ it would become draining on such a vibrant personality when Harry’s mind and body would inevitably start to fail him. Already, Harry’d been noticing problems with his hands for quite some time, but had steadfastly ignored it; until the first week that Eggsy had been gone on his most recent mission, that is. The pain had become so unbearable that he’d actually _voluntarily_ gone to Medical, and been told that it was merely arthritis setting in on knuckles that had been broken far too many times. “The sad lot for those of us getting on in years, I’m afraid.” The doctor had said commiseratingly, and Harry’s polite smile in response had been pressed and thin.

He now had Kingsman issued painkillers to deal with the arthritis, which he’d promptly hidden in the back of the cabinet in the bath and attempted to forget all about. 

He flexed his hands under the blankets, silently cursing the dull ache that had already set in. Clearly their _activities_ the previous night had been a bit of a strain on the joints. He started easing himself out of the bed, trying his level best not to wake the other occupant, but didn’t make it very far before a strongly muscled arm tightened about his waist and dragged him back into the bend of Eggsy’s body.

“…where you goin’, gorgeous?” The younger man sleepily mumbled, nuzzling his face between Harry’s shoulderblades whilst rolling his hips up against the curve of Harry’s backside. _Ah, to be young again_. Chuckling to himself, Harry squeezed a hand on Eggsy’s restraining arm – letting go quickly when the ache in his knuckles throbbed harder and made him wince, thankful that Eggsy couldn’t see his face. 

“Just to the loo, dearest.” 

“Mmm.” The arm wound around his waist let go of its hold, as the boy turned onto his back and gave a jaw-cracking yawn. “What suit you wearin’ today? Was thinkin’ I’d do the blue.” Harry raised a brow at him while loosely tying his dressing gown closed.

“ _You_ are on medical leave for the next three weeks, ergo a suit is not required.” Eggsy threw him a look of disbelief, while sitting up abruptly.

“It was a _scratch_ , Harry.” 

“Doctor’s orders, not mine.” 

“Orders that you have the authority to overthrow, _Arthur_.” Harry tried to suppress his smile at the boy’s petulant tone.

“Ah, but I have no _desire_ to overthrow them.” He ducked as a pillow came sailing towards his head, face turning suddenly serious. “You’ve just been gone for three weeks, Eggsy. Is it truly too much to ask to keep you home and allow yourself to heal properly?” Eggsy sighed before leaving the bed to come over to where Harry stood, reaching up to cradle his face and run gentle fingers over that damnable scar on his left temple. 

“I missed you too, Harry.” He said with a rueful smile, before leaning up on his toes to lay a kiss against the taller man’s lips. “… ‘m gonna be bloody well _bonkers_ by the end o’ three weeks with nothin’ ta do, so you just keep in mind that you _asked_ fer it, love.” Harry let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding at Eggsy’s easy acquiescence. 

“Thank you, my dear.” 

“Yer not keepin’ me outta HQ, though.” He said sternly, jabbing a finger into Harry’s chest as he dropped back down to flat feet.

“Of course, darling. I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Harry knew when and where to pick his battles, after all.

* * *

Eggsy stared down at the tablet in front of him, cursing the necessity of writing after-action reports to hell and back. It was like being in fucking _school_ all over again.

Contrary to popular belief, Eggsy hadn’t minded school all that much. The teachers generally didn’t care, the schools themselves never had funding or up-to-date materials, and homework and assignments had been like fucking _torture_ – but Eggsy’d always gotten a bit of a kick about learning new things. He’d been the type of student that would mouth off in class, knew the detention room _intimately_ , and was probably well-hated by the entirety of the staff for being such a smart arse; but he’d also been the type where his grades were always good, and if pressed to participate in class he’d usually had something half-way intelligent to say. 

He couldn’t count the number of times he’d sort of wished that he’d just played dumb instead. _Such a waste, that Unwin boy. Could’ve been somethin’ good if he’d been born in a diff’rent part o’ London._ People tended not to lament what a disappointment you were if they had no expectations in the first place. 

The soft clink of a glass being set down on expensive wood brought his eyes away from the tablet and across the room instead. Harry was sat at his desk in Arthur’s HQ office – the sofa of which Eggsy was currently sprawled across – with his jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, rubbing a hand across his brow tiredly while he poured over the information on his own tablet. _Budget reports, more ‘n likely. Fuck that noise_. 

Eggsy took a moment to just drink in the sight of him – as Harry had pointed out that morning, it _had_ been a long three weeks away, after all. The soft lighting in the room was sort of making it all seem a bit dreamy, somehow – Harry’s warm eyes just about matched the colour of the brandy in his glass, the dark leather of his holsters framing those wide shoulders in a way that _still_ made Eggsy’s breath catch a bit, the lines on his face deepening as he frowned down at what he was reading, and the light from the lamp shooting threads of silver through his hair. 

It was a _gorgeous_ fucking picture that he made. Eggsy could only hope that he’d look _half_ as good when he hit his fifties, _goddamn_.

There were still moments where he couldn’t help but stop and stare at the older gent, wondering over just how he’d managed to get so fucking lucky that Harry’d looked his way in the first place, or what the hell he’d apparently done to make Harry fall in love with him. But love him he _did_ – after all of the shit that’d gone on with Michaelson and the start of their relationship, Harry hadn’t _once_ tried to hide exactly how sweet he was on Eggsy. That’s not to say that there was disgusting amounts of PDA at work, or anything; Eggsy wasn’t a fan of that kind of shit to begin with, and that aside it was just fucking _unprofessional_ , you know? 

But in front of the Knights Harry still called him ’my dear’, would still give him a squeeze to the shoulder or a quick grasp of his hand – a tender kiss on the forehead, if he’d come particularly close to death on a mission – all little things that once upon a time Eggsy would’ve shied away from, but now found that he couldn’t live without. All things that proved that he was _proud_ of their relationship, that Eggsy wasn’t just some kind of dirty little secret for him or something. Pretty much _everyone_ in Kingsman knew that they belonged to each other, and Harry didn’t seem to give a flying fuck that they did. Fucking _magical_ , that was.

Which made it all the more concerning that Harry was keeping something from him. 

Oh, the old man thought he was slick, alright – but Eggsy wasn’t a _trained fucking spy_ for nothing. He _knew_ when something was bothering Harry that he wasn’t talking about, and something clearly _was_. He’d also found the – impressively well hidden, he’d give him that – bottle of painkillers at the back of the cabinet in their loo at home. 

He wanted to know why they were there, because obviously there was a _reason_. They hadn’t been there before he’d left for his last mission, which meant that _whatever_ had happened, it’d been in the last three weeks. He’d waited that morning – all through getting ready, and breakfast, and the cab to the shop, and the bullet train, and now through fucking _hours_ of quietly doing their paperwork in the same fucking room – for Harry to tell him. He’d even tried to lead it in by asking if anything _exciting_ had happened while he’d been freezing his arse off in Russia. 

Nothing. Harry hadn’t said a goddamn _word_ about anything that would’ve had to do with that bottle. 

It was driving him fucking _mad_ , because when left to its own devices his brain was naturally gonna come up with every possible worst-case scenario for why Harry might’ve needed painkillers. He could practically hear Roxy’s voice in his head saying _Why not just ask him about it?_ , but with all due respect to mental-Roxy… She didn’t know _shit_ about dealing with Harry. Because if the older man didn’t want to talk about something… He just plain fucking wouldn’t, and wild horses couldn’t drag it outta him. 

It was a good thing that Eggsy now had three weeks of medical leave to think of a way to do it, then.

* * *

Harry attempted to hide a wince as he loosened his grip on the pen for his tablet, the dull ache in his hands that he’d woken with having turned decidedly _sharper_. He blinked as a message appeared on the screen from Merlin, wondering why the Quartermaster hadn’t simply hailed him over his glasses instead. Upon reaching the words _suspected human trafficking_ , he understood. Glancing over at where Eggsy was reclined on his sofa, he mentally applauded Merlin’s foresight in not putting him in the position of having to verbally discuss such a thing within the younger agent’s hearing. 

Though he was sure that Eggsy wouldn’t appreciate the coddling, Merlin and Harry had both agreed that bringing up such cases in front of him would simply be an unnecessary upset. 

He took a moment to smile over Eggsy’s comfortably slumped form, before turning his attention back to the mission details before him. It was yet another unfortunate by-product of Valentine’s disaster that in the almost two years since V-Day, Kingsman had seen a drastic increase in cases such as this – with so many injured, so many missing and _dead_ , and everything being so uncertain, it had been perfect ground for those looking to make their business in kidnapped souls.

Harry tiredly brought up his list of agents, determining who might be available to assign to the investigation – for even if Eggsy _hadn’t_ been ordered to medical leave, there was _no way in hell_ that Harry would ever send the case his way. Eggsy had made it through the ordeal with Michaelson admirably, but it had most assuredly left its scars – both mental _and_ physical. He glanced over at the younger man again, eyes able to easily trace the lines around his wrists despite being across the room. The sight would never fail to make him sad and regretful that such a thing had come to pass in the first place. 

It appeared that Lancelot would be best suited for the job, and Harry promptly sent a missive back to Merlin to inform him so, knowing that it would be well taken care of in her capable hands. _Speaking of hands…_ He flexed his own, feeling another sharp spike in the ache and mentally cursing. 

“Tea, Harry?” Eggsy’s voice was jovial, but upon raising his gaze he could easily discern a certain wariness about his eyes. Hoping he hadn’t been watching Harry for too long, the older man sent him an easy smile.

“If you wouldn’t mind, my dear.” 

“…’course not, love.” Eggsy slipped quietly out of the room, and Harry hailed Merlin on his glasses. 

“Arthur.”

“How much do we know?” He asked without further preamble. 

“There’ve been increased reports of missing persons in the last weeks, particularly from around the Estates – Not enough to spike the Yard’s interest, as of yet, but Percival heard some _interesting_ things while he was dealing with that drugs running job. The information he gained indicates that these missing persons may be a much bigger problem than it looks on the surface – I wouldna be too hasty in dismissing the information.”

“I agree, Merlin. Do we have any reports from witnesses? A partial description of the abductor?”

“Nae, not so far. We’ve sent feelers out, but you know those on the Estates tend to keep their heads down and mouths shut. It willna be easy.” The doors creaked open, as Eggsy returned with two steaming cups of tea in hand. 

“Alright,” Harry sighed. “Keep me informed on the situation. In the meantime, transfer all relevant data to Lancelot to begin investigating.” 

“Aye, Arthur.” Merlin clicked off, just as Eggsy set his cup down on the desk. 

“Ev’rythin’ alright, Harry?” He asked with a raised brow, sprawling in one of the chairs across the desk rather than resuming his spot on the sofa. Harry took off the glasses and set them gently on the desk, rubbing his eyes tiredly before picking up his tea. 

“Disappearances and too-little information to go on, I’m afraid.” 

“So the usual, then.” Eggsy said wryly, and Harry huffed a bit of a laugh. The heat from the tea was filtering through the porcelain, sinking into his aching hands and providing just a bit of relief. “Where they disappearin’ from?” He asked casually, and Harry sent him a sharp look.

“ _Medical leave_.” 

“Oh come _on_ , Harry!” Eggsy exclaimed with a roll to his eyes. “There ain’t no hurt in just _tellin’_ me. ‘Sides, I need ta do _somethin’_ with me brain if I’m not gonna go mad ‘round here.” Harry sighed again, wondering if he was ever going to be able to say _no_ to that face. 

“From various areas, but Merlin had noted a slight increase in the north-west of London.” Eggsy’s eyes were far too knowing.

“The Estates, you mean.” Harry gave him a flat look.

“You do realize how large of an area ‘north-west of London’ entails?” Eggsy returned with his own supremely unimpressed look.

“Yeah, but you ain’t the type to generalize – normally you’d’ve just come out and said the neighbourhood. Only reason that you _wouldn’_ is if you was tryin’ to _avoid_ sayin’ summat, and the only neighbourhood in north-west o’ London that you’d avoid talkin’ about in front o’ me is the Estates.” The boy sat back in his chair smugly, raising his cup for a sip of tea while Harry blinked at him. _Truly, he can be frighteningly intelligent at times._

“Eggsy…”

“You don’ gotta _coddle_ me, Harry. I ain't a fuckin’ _child_.” 

“And I do not perceive you to _be_ one, my dear. My actions would be the same no matter _what_ age you were; it is merely the simple matter that I find myself unwilling to be the cause of any unhappiness.” Eggsy’s face seemed to soften at his proclamation, before a small smile quirked its way onto his lips.

“I love you too, Harry.” The older man sighed in relief at the response. Of course, he probably should have known better. “Now tell me what’s goin’ on.” 

_God damn it._


	2. Chapter 2

Eggsy could see the frustration on Harry’s face plainly, but he was determined to stick to what he’d said – he appreciated that the other man was just trying to look out for him, but Harry had to get it through his sometimes-thick head that Eggsy could be _useful_ on things like this. 

The Estates were _his_ neighbourhood, after all.

They stared at each other in a silent battle of wills, and Eggsy was content to sip his tea and wait for Harry to break – and it _would_ be Harry, because he had absolutely _no_ intention of letting it go. Or, at least, he _hadn’t_ had any intention of it… until he watched the older man set down his tea with a barely-hidden wince and his face paled about three fucking shades whiter. Worry for Harry gnawed at his gut, forcing him to temporarily set aside his irritation at what they were talking about. 

“Alright, Harry?” He asked, unable to keep his concern from his voice. He paused when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Is it your head?” Harry _did_ periodically get bad headaches since recovering from Valentine’s bullet, what if they were getting more frequent? _Maybe that’s what them painkillers are for? But then why would Harry try to hide them from me?_

“It’s nothing, my dear. Just a bit of an ache.” Eggsy was reluctant to take the other man’s words at face-value, but what other choice did he have? Harry could be as stubborn as anything – he had to admit, even if only to himself, that they were maybe well-matched that way. Just made life difficult when they _both_ dug their heels in on something. 

“If you say so, guv.” He let his tone say everything his words couldn’t, and Harry sighed. 

“Eggsy – ” Whatever it was that the older man was about to say was cut off abruptly as Eggsy’s abandoned tablet on the sofa let out a little chime, just before Merlin’s irate brogue sounded out of its speakers.

“I said I wanted those reports by _this morning_ , Excalibur. Seeing as how it’s now decidedly the bloody _afternoon_ , I highly suggest you _get your arse in gear or there will be consequences_.” Rolling his eyes over the dramatics, Eggsy nevertheless pushed up from his chair to make his way back to his paperwork – he knew not to take Merlin’s threats lightly, after all. 

He threw a last glance at Harry’s pale form before settling in, making a silent promise that he was only setting aside the discussion of the other man’s health _for now_. If Harry’s headaches _were_ getting worse, you can bet your sweet arse Eggsy was gonna suss it out, no matter how much the man himself might try to brush it off. 

Then there was the issue of these disappearances from the Estates – Harry was trying so hard not to tell him anything, and Eggsy had to admit that a part of him felt like he should just be leaving it be, but… he _couldn’t_. 

He still had friends there. Just because he’d gotten himself a sweet gig that paid their way out of that cramped flat and into the Mews, didn’t mean that Eggsy’d just abandoned the lot – he liked to think that he was more loyal than _that_. And if there was some kind of shit going down that threatened his friends… Well, he wasn’t ever the type to just let that kind of thing go. 

And he knew _just_ where to start.

Pulling out his mobile as surreptitiously as he could, he sent a quick glance Harry’s way to make sure that he wasn’t paying Eggsy any attention. Seeing that the older gent was once again wrapped up in his own paperwork, he opened up his texts and clicked to send a new message. 

_Need a favour, bruv._

He waited impatiently, hoping that the recipient wasn’t busy with work at that moment. He buried his grin when the mobile buzzed silently in his hand with a response. 

_**You always do, you fuckin’ wanker.** _

_You heard anythin’ about people goin’ missin’ round there?_

_**The fuck some fancy arse tailor wanna know about that for?** _

Eggsy barely suppressed the snicker that wanted to come out at the sheer bloody cheek he was getting, but had to admit that he’d expected nothing less. 

_Just humour me, bruv._

_**Keep your fuckin’ shirt on, I’ll see what I can suss out.** _

_You’re a ledge. I’ll owe you. ___

_**You bloody right you will.** _

Satisfied that he’d done what he could for the moment, Eggsy settled down to slog his way through the rest of his reports so that he could get Merlin off his arse.

* * *

Harry let out a relieved sigh when Eggsy promptly returned to his paperwork rather than continuing asking questions. 

Perhaps it would be for the best for him to think that Harry was just having another headache – what harm could such a little white lie do? Much better than admitting that it was merely age and his own body _failing_ him; much better than having to see the expression on the young man’s face when he inevitably came to the realization that things like this would _continue_ to happen with every year that Harry gained. 

Vanity would surely be his downfall, but he just couldn’t seem to help himself. 

He was terrified of losing Eggsy. The nature of their professions meant that Harry could lose the boy in the earthly sense almost any day – if he were being honest, Eggsy had come quite close to death a number of times already – and such an occurrence would be nothing short of wholly _devastating_. But what frightened him almost as much, in his secret heart of hearts, was the possibility that the day would come when Eggsy decided that Harry was just too much _work_ for him – that the relationship they’d built between themselves was no longer _worth_ the effort. 

A part of him knew that such a thing would never come to pass – it just wasn’t in Eggsy’s nature – but some insecurities just seemed to have an irrational stranglehold on him nevertheless. Sighing tiredly to himself, Harry resolved to get back to work. He opened up the next file waiting for his attention, and very nearly groaned aloud.

Kay was proposing an increased budget for explosives. Knowing Kay’s love of pyrotechnics, Harry had absolutely _no_ qualms about denying it soundly. It was days like this where he felt less like the head of an elite espionage agency, and more like a professional child-minder. _Oh, speaking of…_

“I believe we’re due for a visit from Her Highness this evening, are we not?” He asked. Eggsy gave a little snicker from his place across the room.

“We talkin’ about an _actual_ ‘Her Highness’, or my li’l flower?” Harry shot him a somewhat rueful grin.

“ _Touché_ , my dear. I was, of course, referring to Miss Daisy.” Eggsy gave a little _hmm_ in acknowledgement. “Shall we take the girls out? Perhaps to that film you were talking about earlier – _Dragon_ something-or-other?”

“ _Pete’s Dragon_? Dunno if Dais would keep quiet enough fer it, yeah? How about that _Sing_ one? She likes the gorilla.” Harry sent Eggsy a sharp look, seeing a mischevious twinkle in his eye. 

“Oh, _do_ let it go.” 

“I’m sure you wouldn’ mind seein’ that one either, eh?”

“ _Honestly_ , Eggsy.” Harry sighed in exasperation.

“Like the actor that voiced the gorilla, don’ ya?” Harry could _hear_ the laughter hidden in his voice. “Think he’s _right_ fit, you do.” 

“Oh shut up, you little berk.” Harry couldn’t help chuckling as he said it; he would forever rue the day that he’d told Eggsy that the actor in one of the films they’d been watching had oddly reminded Harry of him. Eggsy finally gave a laugh, stretching himself across the sofa and his back giving a couple of loud cracks as his tee rode up his stomach. Harry raised a brow, unable to resist the visual feast on display. 

“Seriously, though – Dais would probably like the music and singin’ better.” 

“Then that’s the one we shall see.” 

It was quite the novelty, for Harry to be able to make such plans. When he’d been a younger lad, his parents had attempted to train him at an early age for what would be expected of him – to be successful in whatever would become his chosen field, to make an advantageous match for marriage, and to sire himself at least one successor to continue the cycle _ad nauseum_. 

That he’d made the discovery early on that he had rather more interest in his _own_ gender than those of the female persuasion had somewhat thrown a wrench into all his parents’ careful planning. Added in with the fact that homosexuality wasn’t decriminalized until 1983, this meant that Harry had spent a great deal of his young life in the belief that he would simply _never_ marry, would never have a family of his own. 

He subconsciously raised a hand, touching the shape of the small sword pendant hidden beneath his button-down. 

Eggsy had given him so much more than just someone to come home to. Eggsy had brought him laughter and silly films, the world’s _neediest_ pug that was always willing to show affection, brightly coloured toys strewn about the house and a beautiful child that considered him family. Through Eggsy, he’d been given all the little nuances of domesticity that so many took for granted and that he’d never thought possible to have for himself. 

He remembered the feeling of _freedom_ when it was no longer illegal for him to love who he wanted to love. He remembered the small bit of hope that had arisen in his chest when _never_ had changed to _perhaps one day_ , when same-sex civil unions were approved. Harry had lived to see all of those changes, and could only thank the heavens that Eggsy had been too young to have been much affected by some of it. 

That wasn’t to say that he believed the boy had never known discrimination against his sexuality; he had _all_ too good an imagination for how someone like Eggsy – who loved based on a person’s _heart_ rather than their gender – would have been caught up within the toxic masculine posturing common to the area he’d grown up in. One had only to look at his former step-father for a _shining_ example. But he had never lived under threat of being incarcerated just for loving someone, for loving the _wrong_ someone. 

“Alright there, Harry?” Eggsy’s voice broke him from his ruminations, blinking in surprise. “You were lookin’ a bit scowly, guv.” Harry let his eyes trail over the boy’s beloved face, always so very _open_ in his affections. 

“I love you very much, Eggsy.” Green eyes widened, before the young man let out a startled laugh. 

“Love you too, Harry. What was that one for?” His tone was careless, though no less sincere for it, unburdened by the fears that Harry had known at his age.

“I just suppose I enjoy saying so aloud, my dear.” A minute frown crumpled Eggsy’s brow before it smoothed away, as he raised to his feet and came to stand beside Harry’s chair. The older man leant back in his seat and tilted his head to keep his eyes on the boy’s face, just as he hesitatingly raised a hand. There was a small pause before Eggsy brushed his fingers lightly over the scar on Harry’s left temple, a soft look in his expression.

“Well, I’ll always want ta hear it… So don’t ever stop, yeah?” 

Yes, Harry was a very fortunate man.

* * *

The afternoon had been right fucking weird, if you asked Eggsy. 

He’d already had his suspicions that something was going on with Harry, but now they’d only _increased_. The whole afternoon, the older gent had seemed withdrawn – but not like he was _angry_ , more like… thoughtful? _Contemplative_. 

It wasn’t anything new for Harry to tell Eggsy that he loved him, not anymore, so why that one moment in particular was sticking in his brain was a mystery; the words had seemed to hold so much _weight_ , more than they ever had seemed to before. 

Harry better not be fucking _dying_ on him or something. 

He might have made a jog past Medical, just to be sure. The doctors there had refused to give him any details – _Patient confidentiality, Excalibur, for Christ sakes_ – but they _had_ insisted that no, Harry was not in any danger of dying in the near future. Well, not any _more_ danger than what came with the job description, that is. 

So if not something like _that_ , then what was gnawing at him? And it was fucking _weird_ , right – because it hadn’t seemed like Harry’d been _upset_ in that moment, not really. 

The man could _really_ stand to be less of a mystery, sometimes. It was fucking _maddening_.

Sighing to himself, Eggsy finished paying for his snacks at the little shop round the corner from Harry’s house, and decided to temporarily let it go. _I seem ta be doin’ a whole fuckin’ lot o' that lately_. Ah well, things would clear themselves up eventually, he was sure. He took the trip back to the Mews at a bit of a jog, grinning a bit when he saw the lights in the living room glowing all warm and inviting from the outside. 

_I fuckin’ love my life now, swear down._

He entered the house to the sounds of family, of _home_ – J.B. yipping in excitement over something, Daisy’s pretty giggles and his mum’s hushed laughter, Harry lowly murmuring something or another. There was a tiny purple jacket hung up on a peg between his black and gold Jeremy Scott and Harry’s charcoal great coat, and a lime green tutu with matching fairy wand discarded on the two-hundred-year-old sideboard in the hallway. 

These signs of life should have looked out of place against Harry’s finery, but somehow they _didn’t_. Somehow they seemed like they _belonged_ , and Eggsy knew that was mostly due to the fact that Harry _treated_ them like they belonged. 

When Eggsy had first officially moved back into the house with Harry – and talk about _odd_ , since the place had belonged to Harry, and then belonged to him, and then belonged to Harry again – he’d been a bit worried about trying to fit himself into Harry’s antiques and clean lines. He’d never lived in the house _with_ Harry before, after all – when he’d first been given the place, he’d been so struck by his grief over Harry’s apparent death that he hadn’t wanted to change a damn thing. 

So in the beginning, he’d tried real hard to be respectful of the fact that it was _Harry’s_ home, you know? He’d always tried to keep his things tidy and contained, like they were barely even _there_. He’d tried to make it so that there wasn’t a single stamp on the place that glared out _EGGSY LIVES HERE AND IS TAKING OVER YOUR SPACE._

That had come to an end when Harry had sat him down one day and asked him, all polite-like, if he was perhaps unhappy about living with him. Eggsy’d been shocked, right? Because there wasn’t anything in the _world_ that he wanted more than to live with Harry – and why would he think so? Had he done something wrong? And Harry had said that since Eggsy hadn’t really unpacked any of his things, that he’d been wondering if he was regretting moving in. When Eggsy had told him – quietly, _hesitantly_ – that he’d just figured that Harry wouldn’t appreciate him mucking up the place, Harry’s face had gone all soft and _sad_. It had hurt to look at.

Then Harry had told him that he _wanted_ Eggsy’s things to be about, that he wanted to come home and know that it was a place that they were sharing _together_. Eggsy had asked, a bit nervously, if it would be alright to do up the guestroom for his little girl – _you know, with a proper crib, and some toys, and maybe paint the walls if that isn’t too much_ – and Harry had been absolutely fucking _delighted_. It’d sort of shocked Eggsy, if he was being honest. 

Harry had taken to noisy family life like a duck to fucking water, much to everyone else’s surprise. He even sometimes seemed a bit sad that they didn’t have his little girl over _more_ often, honestly. 

He rounded the corner into the living room, smiling at the sight of all his favourite people (and dog) gathered together. Harry looked up at him first, though Eggsy knew that he’d probably been aware of him since the moment he’d come through the door – that was a _spy_ for you.

“Thought we was gonna have ta go without ya, luv!” His mum giggled, giving Daisy a little bounce on her knee. 

“Would’ve been a shame for ya, mum – I got your favourite, after all.” He pulled out a box of Pink Elephant Popcorn and shook it temptingly. 

“Where’d you manage to find that?! I ain’t seen it since I was pregnant with ya!” He laughed at the delight on her face, shrugging his shoulders.

“The old man what runs the shop around the corner’s always got weird things in stock. Funny geezer, he is.” Harry gave a little laugh, having spoken to the odd gent a time or two himself. 

“Though a wasted effort, I’m afraid.” Harry said. “The cinema’s hardly going to allow you to bring in food from outside.” Eggsy raised a brow in challenge.

“You doubtin’ my smugglin’ skills, guv?”


	3. Chapter 3

Things were not going well in the Kingsman Headquarters.

Harry sighed tiredly, pushing up his glasses in order to rub his gritty-feeling eyes whilst Merlin slumped back in his seat in defeat. Needless to say, Lancelot’s trafficking case was not progressing well… Or at _all_. 

“Do these people not care that we can’t _help_ them without information?” Even as he said it, Harry knew that it wasn’t an entirely fair observation. They’d already known that getting any details about the disappearances from the tight-lipped residents of the Estates was going to be a difficult task. 

“You _know_ what it’s like around there, Arthur.” Merlin murmured in resignation. “They willna talk freely unless it’s amongst themselves.” He eyed Harry up speculatively before opening his mouth to speak.

“ _No_.” He said firmly before Merlin could utter a sound, knowing _precisely_ what he’d been about to suggest.

“He could _help_ , Harry. He could get us valuable information that we wouldna be able to get ourselves.” 

“I said _no_ , Merlin. I’ll not have him anywhere near this case.” His old friend regarded him with a decidedly _unimpressed_ look. 

“You’ve taken to treating him like a child, then.” Harry let out a small growl of annoyance at the accusation, before reeling his composure back in a little bit.

“Why does everyone keep _saying_ that?!” He bit out, clenching his hands tightly before the throbbing in his joints forced him to stop. “It has nothing _whatsoever_ to do with that – I merely want to keep him _safe_!” Merlin let out a small _tsk_ noise, and Harry found himself grinding his teeth.

“Then you are _fooling_ yourself, Harry.” The Quartermaster’s voice was firm and unyielding, the kind of tone that usually had recruits quaking in their boots. “He’s _chosen_ this profession – he has willingly signed up to put himself in danger on a constant basis. If you have no intention of allowing him to do his bloody _job_ , then what are you turning him into? Last I checked, he’d had no interest in becoming someone’s spoiled _plaything_.” 

“ _Merlin!_ ” The other man regarded Harry’s irate protest with a calmly raised brow. 

“I know you love him, Harry. I _know_. But have you stopped to consider how this constant mother-hen attitude is inevitably going to make him feel? Eggsy has _never_ been the type to accept an easy handout – he has _always_ worked in some way for what he has, or at the very least worked to _repay_ his debts. The fact that he survived years of abuse and never once considered calling in his _favour_ until it was absolutely necessary is enough to tell you _that_.” 

Harry let out a defeated sigh, knowing that there was truth to what Merlin was saying; he didn’t _want_ to take away Eggsy’s spirit and independence, he _liked_ him that way – but is that what he was unintentionally accomplishing, regardless? He thought back to that first night – after Holborn, after the Black Prince, after threatening Dean Baker within an inch of his life – when Eggsy had joined him at the Kingsman shop. He’d hesitated at the door, defensive and frightened in a way that all a young man’s bravado in the world would never be able to completely hide. 

Harry had been positively _furious_ once he’d laid eyes upon the quickly-darkening bruises on the left side of Eggsy’s face, the imprint of unyielding fingertips already apparent upon his sharp jaw. _That_ had been the first time that Harry had felt the urge to gather the boy to him, to keep him close and never let another thing harm him. 

And yet, Harry had been able to press those feelings aside and enter him into the candidacy trials regardless. 

_If I could do it then, I can do it now._

“You are right, of course, my friend.” He noticed the slightest bit of tension ease from Merlin’s shoulders at his capitulation. “Eggsy is out with his family at the moment, I believe. Why don’t we call a meeting for this evening with Lancelot and yourself in my office at the Shop? It would save us all some time to meet there rather than taking the train all the way out here – I believe you said that Miss Roxanne was currently in London doing some reconnaissance?” 

“Aye,” The Quartermaster agreed. “might be nice for the young ones to have a bit of a more _informal_ gathering, for once. I think the Meeting Room still puts Excalibur a bit on-edge.” 

“I’ll have Dagonet ring for tea, then.” Harry pulled out his mobile, a smile pulling to his lips as he regarded the photo of Eggsy and little Daisy that still adorned the screen – initially he’d felt the urge to remove the picture, given everything that had immediately followed the taking of it. It had been Eggsy himself that had changed his mind, insisting that it was a nice picture for Harry to have and _Who the fuck cares abou’ the rest, guv? Honestly_. So the picture had remained. 

He opened up his messages, finding the thread with Eggsy easily (it was always right at the top, after all), and began to type. 

_**Please meet at the Shop office at 19:00. We require your expertise on L’s current project.** _

It was not very long of a wait before he received Eggsy’s response. 

_Was planning to drop mum & li’l flower off around half-six. Might be a min or two late, but I’ll be there. Suit?_

_**No need. Just an informal meeting.** _

_It’s a date then, love. ;)_

Harry couldn’t quite suppress the warmth that infused him at that. Eggsy’s usually sunny disposition would never fail to cheer him when he needed it most.

* * *

Eggsy lowered his mobile, a tightness in his chest that he hadn’t even known he’d been carrying easing all of a sudden. Harry was finally going to let him help, at least in some way. He loved Harry to _death_ , it was true, but he’d been getting heartily fucking tired of the older man constantly trying to keep him away from Rox’s newest case. 

He _knew_ he could help, if Harry would just let him fucking _do it_.

He could understand being kept out of things physically, given that he _was_ technically on medical leave, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t help out in _other_ ways, yeah? These were _his_ people they were dealing with – no matter that he’d been outta the Estates for a while now, he still _knew things_ about the way they worked. Things that the trust fund babies that ninety-percent of Kingsman was made up of just wouldn’t _understand_. 

Sure, Kingsman agents were good at playing a part and mimicking all kinds of walks of life – that was sort of a necessity of the job, yeah? – but when it came to his old neighbourhood, he knew damn well that they’d see through it. You grew up in the Estates, you learned how to smell a rozzer a fucking _mile_ off – and while Kingsman weren’t _exactly_ the Feds, even he could acknowledge that they gave off a close enough vibe for anybody with half a brain to want to steer clear of ‘em. 

He wasn’t surprised that they were having trouble getting people to talk, that’s all he was saying. 

“Ev’rythin’ alright, babes?” He blinked and looked at his mum, her expression caught between curious and apprehensive; just because she’d made her peace with his chosen profession, didn’t mean that she didn’t still _worry_ about him. 

“Yeah, mum. Just a work thing – they want my help with a suit Rox’s been tryin’ ta finish.” Michelle nodded her head in understanding, knowing that when out in public he could only say so much. 

“Should we cut this short, then?” She asked, and Eggsy gave her a quick smile. 

“Nah, I ain’t gotta be ta the Shop until seven or so. We still good for the rest o’ the afternoon – Eh, my Dais?” He leaned forward to give the toddler a noisy kiss on her cheek from where she was perched against Michelle’s hip, delighting in the giggles that it produced. “Just gimme a mo’ to send a message, yeah?” At his mum’s nod, he glanced back down at his mobile’s screen, exiting out of the thread with Harry and opening another.

_Hey, mate. You got any news for me about what we was talkin’ the other day?_

He frowned when a reply failed to come, before checking the time – it was only a quarter to four, which meant the recipient was probably still working. _Damn_. He sent another, figuring they’d get it eventually.

_Meet me at the Kingsman tailor shop on Savile Row for 7pm, if you’ve got anythin’ for me. I’ll treat ya to a night on the lash sometime this month, yeah? Just don’t bring that fuckhead friend o’ yours. I see him, I’m fuckin’ deckin’ him._

Eggsy scowled down at his mobile, suddenly in a piss-poor mood. He fuckin’ _hated_ that wanker. 

“Eggsy, babes – let’s go into this shop?” Shaking it off he pasted on a smile, determined to enjoy the rest of his afternoon with his family. The reply, when it came almost an hour and a half later, made him grin.

_**Yeah, I’ll meet ya there, your fuckin’ highness. Got some things ta tell ya. And I ain’t spendin’ time with him no more, so leave off it will ya.** _

_Good. You deserve better, mate._

_**I ain’t the one with the fuckin’ boyfriend, you wanker.** _

Eggsy snickered to himself, glad to see that it was just as easy to take the piss out of them as it always had been. Even though it was gonna be for business, he was looking forward to seeing them again. 

He also couldn’t _wait_ to see Harry’s reaction – it was bound to be fucking _priceless_. 

It was a curious thing… To fight alongside someone, to face death with them on an almost daily basis, it gave you a sort of closeness that couldn’t be copied in any other circumstance. That being said, it was usually the kind of bond that formed quick and tight, all without knowing much about the other person at all.

He _knew_ Harry – knew him to the depths of his very fucking _bones_. Knew what actions he’d take when faced with danger, knew his favourite weapon, knew the way his body moved with that fluid grace when in combat. Living with Harry had also meant that Eggsy learned him in other ways – how he liked his tea, that he sometimes had night terrors about the awful things that came with job, where to touch him to make him stutter and gasp and _stop fucking thinking_. Knew that if Eggsy said _don’t touch me right now_ he could count on Harry to listen. 

Yes, Eggsy _knew_ Harry… But in so many ways, he still hardly knew him at all. 

He didn’t know what Harry’d been like growing up, didn’t know a single fucking thing about his family or if he even still _had_ any. He didn’t know how Harry’d gotten involved in Kingsman, who’d brought him in for his own candidacy for Galahad. He didn’t know how Harry and Merlin had become friends, or if (as he suspected) Harry was _entirely_ the reason that Merlin lost his hair. He didn’t know what in the _hell_ had possessed Harry to stuff his dog and then choose to hang it in the fucking _loo_ of all places. 

And that road sort of went both ways, didn’t it?

There was still so much about himself that Harry had no idea about – they never really talked about Smith Street, or life with Dean, or anything that had come before Kingsman, really. Sure, Harry _knew_ that some of these things had happened, but that was about where it ended. Then again, Eggsy figured it may be just a _tad_ uncomfortable to talk to one’s boyfriend about his glory days as a fucking _rent boy_ , for Christ sakes. Maybe it _was_ best to leave it be. 

But there were some good things from Eggsy’s life that Harry didn’t know about either, he mused hours later as he did a quick jog up the front steps of the Kingsman shop just a bit after seven. 

He wondered what the reaction would be to tonight’s little surprise.

* * *

When Harry had said an _informal_ meeting, he’d meant it. 

It was too easy, at Kingsman, to get wrapped up in all the _minutia_ of protocol and forget that his agents were also _people_. As much as most of them had been reared in varying forms of finery, who didn’t like to be _comfortable_ every now and then? That was why, previous to sitting down with Lancelot and Merlin, he’d deigned to remove his suit jacket and tie, rolling his sleeves to the elbows and giving his shoulders a bit of a break by stashing his shoulder holsters in one of the desk drawers. 

Lancelot had appeared for the meeting in a flattering pair of denims and pretty blouse, her hair left down to her shoulders rather than being harshly scraped back into her signature ponytail, for once. And Merlin… well. Merlin rather looked like his usual, frumpy jumper and all. That left only Eggsy to appear, though he _had_ forewarned Harry that he may be a few minutes tardy. 

_Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear_. They could hear cautious footsteps coming up the stairs outside the office door, and Harry did find it strange that it wasn’t Eggsy’s usual stomp, but brushed the thought aside in favour of finishing reading Bors’ report from Argentina. There came a quiet knock at the door, followed by Merlin’s snort of amusement.

“Have you finally nagged him into knocking, Harry?” He asked, before calling out for Eggsy to enter. Harry hummed noncommittally, only listening with half an ear whilst he concentrated on the tablet in his hand. 

“Hey, Eggs.” Lancelot murmured in greeting.

“Did you cut your hair again, lad?” Merlin’s observation and the grunt from the doorway in answer made Harry frown, as he couldn’t recall an appointment at the barber’s having been on the docket for Eggsy’s day out with his girls. 

“Er…” The voice was low, not quite Eggsy’s usual softness, and it finally caused Harry to tear his eyes away from his work to look up. 

There was a moment where he was confused, he will admit. 

The hair on the sides of his head was indeed shorn much shorter than Eggsy’d had it that morning, though he was missing his usually ever-present snapback. His denims and dark track jacket were ones that Harry had seen the boy in many a time, but something about the fit of them seemed… _off_. Then his gaze landed on the boy’s throat and he _knew_. 

The sound of Harry’s tablet hitting the side table hard as he jerked to his feet was enough to have all eyes turning his way in shock.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Merlin asked in confusion. Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to convince his suddenly madly beating heart to calm until he had a better handle of the situation.

“ _That is **not** Eggsy._ ”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **About our mystery guest:** Please see notes at the end of the story for more details.

Harry stared at the stranger in their midst, his thoughts swirling in an attempt to come up with an appropriate course of action.

“What do you _mean_ , ‘That’s not Eggsy’?” Merlin asked, though his eyes had narrowed suspiciously at the doppelganger, trusting that Harry was seeing something he wasn’t. Lancelot slowly rose to her feet, her initially welcoming smile having dropped into a puzzled frown. Harry allowed the others in the room to fall from his mind as he gave the young man before him a more thorough inspection. 

Indeed, now that he was looking more closely, there were some obvious differences.

Harry _had_ noted initially that there was nothing unusual about the outfit the boy had on, but that the fit hadn’t been quite right – he could see now that the reason for this was that the figure before him was approximately a good two stone heavier than Eggsy himself – though the bagginess of the clothing had done much initially to hide this detail. From where he was standing, Harry was _just_ able to discern a healing wound on the side of the boy’s hand, his experience telling him that it had more than likely been caused by a burn of some sort. 

His inspection was brought to a halt when he noticed the fingers of the boy’s hand begin to curl defensively, his body language – which had _already_ been uneasy, now that Harry thought about it – turning ever-more guarded and tense. The expression on the stranger’s face was an almost exact mirror for the one Eggsy had worn that first day upon joining Harry in the shop; it was the look of a young man who wasn’t entirely certain what he’d walked into, frightened but doing his level best not to appear so. 

Almost against his will, Harry could feel himself softening. 

“An explanation, young man, if you please.” He said, though not unkindly. His soft tone didn’t appear to put the boy at ease, his shoulders tensing up even further. Before a word was said, they could hear stomping footsteps coming up the stairs. _Eggsy, thank god._ The door opened suddenly – with no preceding knock, Harry ruefully observed – and there Eggsy stood before them in denims and a long-sleeved tee, his shield pendant hung in prominent display. 

“Ah, fuck _me_.” Eggsy said in apparent exasperation upon sighting the other young man in the room. “Was hopin’ I’d make it here before ya. Since when’re _you_ on time fer anythin’?!” Harry blinked as Eggsy threw a companionable arm around the stranger’s shoulders, pulling the other boy in to give him a smacking kiss on his cheek while his captive grumbled something unintelligible, before seeming to gently push Eggsy away. Such physical displays from Eggsy where _rare_ , to say the least, and it only made Harry all the more curious. 

“What the fuck is going _on_?” Roxy asked in quiet shock, and he had to admit that he echoed the sentiment. Eggsy grinned widely, whilst the other young man seemed determined to glower down at the floor moodily. 

“Fuckin’ _priceless_ , Rox! That look on yer face is fuckin’ _aces_.” She scowled and flipped him the Vs, which only made the boy laugh as he ventured further into the room, coming to a stop next to Harry. Still feeling off-balance from the strange affair, he raised a hand to grasp Eggsy lightly at the back of his neck, finding himself somehow needing the reassurance of warm skin against his own. 

“Oi! Hands off!” The boy at the door shouted, his face twisting in anger and beginning to stomp over to the two of them. From his grip, Harry could feel Eggsy startle in surprise, before his face softened with a bit of a smile.

“S’alright, bruv.” He said reassuringly, the other young man halting his movement and frowning in confusion. “This is my Harry.” He couldn’t deny a bit of a foolish thrill going through him at the acknowledgement, despite feeling uncharacteristically nervous as the stranger gave him a once-over – whatever conclusions the young man drew were a mystery, as the expression on his face didn’t change from its scowl. 

“If we’re feeling in the mood for introductions…” Harry cut in dryly, beginning to see some humour in the situation now that he had Eggsy safe and sound and under his hands. “Might I have the pleasure?” Eggsy reached up to tap at Harry’s arm – his signal that he was growing uncomfortable with the touch – and Harry let him go immediately, checking his expression as he did so. Eggsy was still smiling, so he obviously hadn’t been put to the limit of his tolerance, yet. 

“This here _gorgeous_ fella,” Eggsy said with a grin, gesturing to the other young man. “is me cousin, Dennis.” 

“ _Cousin_?” Roxy asked in astonishment. “Christ, I was beginning to think you’d somehow hidden a _twin_ from us.” 

“What can I say? It’s them Unwin genes.” 

“Ain’t an Unwin.” The other boy – Dennis – mumbled. 

“Yeah, but yer mum was, you fuck.” Eggsy shot back with a laugh.

“Seeing the two of you together, the differences seem obvious,” Merlin noted musingly. “but Harry knew _instantly_. What gave it away?” Harry blinked at him a moment before replying.

“Oh. The beauty mark on his throat – [Eggsy doesn’t have one there](http://i.imgur.com/JW4nxNn.jpg).” Dennis lifted his gaze from the floor to Harry’s face, one eyebrow raising almost _judgmentally_. 

“ _You’d_ know.” He muttered, and Harry was once again thrown off-balance; he couldn’t tell if the young man had decided to hate him, or if he was merely _always_ this recalcitrant. He’d have to ask Eggsy later. Merlin cleared his throat in the ensuing awkward silence.

“I’ll admit, I was beginning to think it was an Unwin tradition to have _unique_ names, but ‘Dennis’ is shockingly normal.” He said with a laugh, clearly trying to put the conversation back on a congenial track. Dennis reached up to scratch at the back of his neck and shrugged a shoulder.

“Most people call me _Asbo_.” 

“ _Unbelievable_.” Roxy muttered under her breath, which set Eggsy to snickering in amusement. 

“What is your preference?” Harry asked, and the surly young man seemed to blink at him in shock.

“Er… what, guv?” 

“Well, Eggsy obviously prefers not to go by his given name – I was just wondering if you were of a similar mind? Whatever name you would rather be called by, we will endeavour to do so.” Harry was surprised that the boy seemed to actually be giving it some thought. 

“… _Asbo_ ’s fine.” One of Eggsy’s brows twitched up at the response, and Dennis – or, Asbo, rather – gave him an inscrutable look in return. 

“Gog _hates_ it.” Was the odd reply, causing Eggsy to bark out a laugh.

“ _Asbo_ it fuckin’ is, then.”

* * *

If Gog hated something, Eggsy was twice as likely to fucking _love_ it. God, he was looking forward to smashing that arsehole’s face in one day. He’d done nothing since day fucking _one_ but get Eggsy’s favourite cousin in all kinds of trouble – he couldn’t say he was sorry to hear that Dennis was finally shot of him.

Or, _Asbo_ , that was. The name change would take adjusting, but who was he to judge?

“Anyways,” He said, eager to get down to business now that he’d had his fun. “I’ll be up fer our meetin’ in a mo’, I just wanted to talk to me cousin about summat first.” He turned towards the door, intending to hear what information Asbo had been able to dig up for him before reporting it back to Harry afterwards, but was drawn short by the sharp look his cousin was giving him. “What?” He asked testily.

“Yer meetin’.” Asbo said, suspicion in his tone.

“…Yeah?”

“A meetin’ about _suits_.” Eggsy frowned, wondering why his cousin seemed almost _angry_ with him.

“Yeah, bruv. We’s _tailors_.” Asbo scowled all the more at Eggsy’s reply.

“I never met a tailor before, but I know you _ain’t_ one.” Eggsy was too caught in his staring contest with his cousin to note Merlin’s muttered “Dear god, it’s _genetic_.” 

“What you talkin’ ‘bout, cuz. ‘Course I am.” _Oops, wrong answer_. Asbo’s face twisted into a snarl.

“Don’t fuckin’ _lie_ to me, Eggsy.” 

“What – ”

“I ain’t ever heard of tailors that carry fuckin’ _guns_ , fer starters.” You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Eggsy resisted the urge to turn and look at Harry – he’d been certain that the older man wasn’t wearing his shoulder holsters when he’d first come through the door, but now he was second-guessing himself. 

“Why don’t we all have a seat.” Harry’s placid voice broke the building tension, and as he settled himself into a chair at the low coffee table, the others followed suit. Eggsy hesitated along with his cousin, the two of them eyeing each other up a moment longer before they both slumped onto the remaining settee. 

“The fuck’s goin’ on, Eggsy.” He had _no fucking idea_ how he was supposed to answer that question. 

“How did you know?” Harry’s voice was curious and calm, but Eggsy blinked in shock anyways. _What, Harry’s not gonna try to lie?_

“Creases.” Asbo mumbled, and Harry frowned in confusion.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Asbo gestured with one hand up to his own shoulder.

“Creases from the holsters. Seen ‘em on the Feds a time or two.” Eggsy’s gaze jumped to Harry’s shoulders, surprised to notice the faint wrinkles in his button-up around where the straps of his holsters would have normally sat. 

“Fuck _me_.” He said in amazement, as Asbo snorted.

“You ain’t the only one with _some_ smarts in the family, mate.” Harry actually _smiled_ , looking pleased.

“A very astute observation, young man.” Asbo eyed him with suspicion, not taking his gaze away even as he spoke.

“You gotten mixed up with the Feds, Eggsy?” The look he gave his cousin in return could have cut glass.

“You fuckin’ _serious_.” 

“Alright. So if not the Feds, who the fuck _are_ these people?” Eggsy was again at a loss on how to answer, and instead Harry spoke up. 

“We are an organization that seeks to keep an eye on any potential global threats, and rectify them before they become _problems_ , by any means necessary. In a wholly _unofficial_ capacity, of course.” 

“…keep an eye on things _how_?” Asbo asked, eyes narrowed.

“Through matters of espionage, primarily.”

“Like a _spy_.” A smile twitched to Harry’s face.

“Of a sort.” Eggsy couldn’t help the grin tugging at his own lips, thinking back to his first time in Fitting Room One while he and Harry had an almost identical conversation. His grin died quickly as Asbo’s head slowly turned toward him, a glare fixed in place. 

“You gone off to become _James fuckin’ Bond_ , you prick?!” Eggsy could feel his expression soften, knowing that his cousin was only getting so worked up out of concern and fear for his safety. 

“Mum knows, mate. Trust me – everythin’ you could possibly think of arguin’, we’ve already gone over.” Asbo leaned closer, his voice dropping lower.

“They ain’t makin’ ya… _do_ things, are they Eggsy? They ain’t makin’ ya _touch_ people?” Eggsy smiled softly, feeling a rush of love for his kin as he gave Asbo’s arm a reassuring squeeze. 

“Nah, mate. It’s all fine.” He could see some of the tension leak out of his cousin’s shoulders. A quiet knock at the door came, opening to reveal Dagonet with a prepared tea service. The old man drew to a quick halt when he spotted the two boys on the settee, blinking in surprise. 

“But I thought…” He sputtered, and Eggsy couldn’t help raising a brow at seeing the usually unflappable man look so thrown. Suddenly, it clicked for him.

“Ah, shit. You told _him_ – ” Here Eggsy jerked a thumb in Asbo’s direction. “ta come up here for the meetin’ thinkin’ it was actually _me_ , didn’t ya?” Dagonet nodded. “And by the time I came through the front you were probably off gettin’ the tea together, which would be why I didn’t see ya.” 

“Good lord.” Was Dagonet’s underwhelming reply. A burst of giggles came from Roxy’s direction, before she slapped a hand over her mouth, looking mortified. 

“Er… sorry.”

* * *

Harry could forgive Roxy her outburst, as he had to admit that the whole thing was turning rather more farcical than expected. 

He’d been aware, on some level, that there’d been a younger sister when he’d recruited Lee so long ago; though, as at the time it’d been deemed useless information, he’d sort of _flushed_ it from his mind. He was fascinated by the way the young man and Eggsy interacted – indeed, even in their mannerisms they could appear almost as twins. It was _astounding_. He also noted that Eggsy seemed comfortable enough to freely touch the other boy, his usual hesitance hardly noticeable. Given the way that Asbo had quickly leapt to Eggsy’s defense when Harry’d touched him earlier, he would imagine that played a significant role in his comfort. 

Dagonet wasted no time in setting out their tea and taking his quiet leave, and Harry relished the warmth seeping through the fine china into his hands. He watched interestedly as Asbo lifted his own cup and saucer, seeming nervous to be handling the delicate porcelain. His touch was remarkably gentle, and Harry had to suppress a smile as he realized that this was perhaps yet another similarity between the young men – to be rough around the edges, but capable of care and gentleness when it was called for.

_Lee was much the same_ , He thought. _Perhaps there really is something about those Unwin genes_. 

As Harry watched, Asbo raised a hand to the zip on his jacket but paused and glanced at Eggsy. When met with an easy shrug, he undid the jacket and pulled it off, revealing a simple cotton tee of navy blue. Harry couldn’t help the surprised raise of his brow as he noted – 

“Is that a tattoo?” Roxy’s voice was curious, and the boy’s shoulders tensed for a moment before he seemed to force them to relax. Without answering her, he instead pulled the short sleeve of the shirt higher to put the whole of the thing on display. Harry was now easily able to discern that the image was of a [mounted knight](http://i.imgur.com/cqtLNLF.jpg), lance and shield in hand. 

“A knight?” Merlin asked, amusement buried in his tone. 

“Uncle Lee used ta like to tell us stories ‘bout King Arthur and all that…” The boy mumbled, sounding a bit defensive. “Was always my fav’rite memory of him.” Harry took another sip of his tea as the young man let his sleeve drop back down.

“You should see the dragon that’s tattooed [on his ass](http://i.imgur.com/OSd7RCX.jpg).” Harry damn near choked on that very same sip of tea at Eggsy’s interjection, Asbo regarding his counterpart with a look of utter betrayal.

“ _Eggsy!_ ” Roxy burst into giggles, just as Asbo’s cheeks turned a violent shade of red in his embarrassment. “Don’t just go fuckin’ _tellin’_ people about that!” Feeling some pity for the young man, Harry decided it was time to put things back on track.

“Presumably you had a reason to bring your cousin here _aside_ from embarrassing him, Eggsy?” Both of the boys’ faces turned serious. 

“…s’pose _that’s_ why you was askin’ about disappearances, then? ‘Cos your little spy group’s lookin’ into it?” There was an unhappy edge to Asbo’s voice. “I ain’t got nothin’ ta tell them.” It was the same kind of close-lipped response that they’d been getting everywhere else.

“Yer not tellin’ _them_ , you wanker, yer tellin’ _me_.” Eggsy shot back, folding his arms and clenching his jaw as the two of them stared at each other. It was an interesting battle of wills to observe, Harry had to admit. “Look,” Eggsy finally sighed, letting his arms drop. “I worry ‘bout the neighbourhood, no diff’rent than when I was livin’ there, ya get me? And now I’m findin’ out people is goin’ missin’, and you and I both fuckin’ know what that usually means. Who’s gonna be _next_ , mate? Might be someone we _know_ , you think of that?”

“…Mina.”

“What?” Eggsy’s brow crumpled in confusion.

“There was a Canadian bird that moved to the Estates, I dunno, year or two ago. Her name was Mina. Been hearin’ that she just up and vanished, like some of the others. Been worried, maybe.” 

“You feel you have cause to worry?” Harry asked. Asbo gave him a challenging look.

“She was pretty. _Very_ pretty.” Perhaps seeing that they weren’t quite following, Eggsy spoke up.

“Nothin’ _good_ ever happens to pretty young people that go missin’ from the Estate.” His voice was as grim as the expression on his cousin’s face, and Harry nodded in acknowledgement. 

“I saw…” Here Asbo’s voice seem to falter, but after a moment he seemed to come to some sort of decision, raising his face to look Harry in the eye. “I saw some men comin’ ‘round. Never seen ‘em before, so’s I get the feelin’ they was just there for _business_. You promise me you gonna _do_ somethin’ about this, then I’ll tell ya what I know.” 

Harry knew that this was likely a substantial show of trust for a young man who’d been raised to never put faith in ‘outsiders’ like him. He made a solemn oath that he and Kingsman would do their best to bring it to an end. 

“Tell me everything you can.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler Warning:** I probably should have mentioned this on the last chapter, but I _am_ going to be periodically referencing things from _The Smoke_. If you haven't seen the show, most of what I mention will still be understandable, per se. I will be discussing something from Asbo's storyline in a later chapter that will be a _huge_ spoiler for _The Smoke_ , however. I will post a spoiler warning at the beginning of that chapter as well, but just so everyone is aware.

It was a start, at least.

Asbo had given them as much information as he could, and it was leagues ahead of where they’d been stuck in their investigation so far. Eggsy hadn’t intended for his cousin to find out about the whole _spy_ business, he’d asked him to meet at the Shop mostly because he’d wanted to finally introduce him and Harry – he’d sort of thought he’d have his giggle over it before taking Asbo outside to hear what he’d found out, and then relaying the information to Harry afterwards. Having Harry tell the other boy everything had _not_ been in the plan, and now Eggsy was a bit worried about the outcome.

Because if any of them had the idea to amnesia-dart his cousin, that was just _not fucking on_. 

“Well, I think that’ll be enough to be getting on with.” Merlin said, having just finished making notes of what Asbo had told them. Eggsy watched carefully as Harry leant back in his seat, studying the other boy seriously. 

“You seem like an intelligent young man,” He began, and Eggsy found himself holding his breath. “so you’ve probably already worked out for yourself why I’ve chosen to be so candid about our business with you.” Asbo nodded his head slowly, unconsciously straightening up and squaring his shoulders as though preparing for a fight. 

“You’ve got some guaranteed way o’ makin’ _sure_ I don’t blab on ya.” The corner of Harry’s mouth twitched as though he wanted to smile. 

“Indeed. Inside my watch is a dart that will incite amnesia of varying levels – I have only to choose. I could make you forget this conversation, I could make you forget the past year, I could even make you forget _who_ you are and your entire life.” Eggsy _trusted_ Harry… but he could feel himself tensing despite that. 

“Well ain’t that _special_.” Suddenly Eggsy wanted to smack his cousin upside the head for the sarcasm. Harry only seemed to be amused, however. 

“Quite. _However_ … I once gave Eggsy the chance to prove himself when he swore he wouldn’t tell a soul about what he’d seen, and I found my trust in him entirely justified. I’m willing to offer you the same chance – swear to me that you won’t breathe a word of what you’ve learned here today, and I will allow you to leave here with all memories intact.” Asbo stared at Harry in sullen silence for a moment, and for once in his life even Eggsy was having a hard time reading what he was thinking. 

“I dunno how they do things in whatever countryside fuckin’ manor house _you_ come from,” Asbo said lowly, words so filled with hot anger they could burn. “but where _we_ live you fuckin’ bleed to death for your family if that’s what it takes – I ain’t gonna say _fuck all_ to anybody, but I sure as fuck ain’t doin’ it fer you. I’m doin’ it fer _Eggsy_ , ya get me? I ain’t gonna put my fuckin’ cousin’s life at risk just because I ran me fuckin’ mouth.” 

“ _Excellent_.” Eggsy blinked at Harry’s reply, the older man looking downright _pleased_ by the tongue-lashing he’d just gotten. 

“We done here, then?” At Harry’s nod, Asbo jerked up from his seat and left the room, not another word to be said.

“Er… I’ll be right back.” Eggsy legged it out to the stairs as well, catching up with his cousin in the front room of the Shop. “Oi, Denny. Come on out back, mate.” The two of them made their way out the rear door to stand in the little secluded alley, and Eggsy gave the other boy an assessing look. 

“What.” Asbo’s voice was challenging, but Eggsy noticed a tremor to his hands as he pulled out a smoke and lit it. 

“What’s goin’ on with you, bruv?” He could feel his brow pulling into a concerned frown. “You ain’t been right for fuckin’ _months_ now.” 

“How would _you_ know – we almost never fuckin’ see ya no more.” Eggsy felt a stab of guilt, knowing that it was true. He couldn’t even _think_ of the last time he’d actually gone over to see his aunt. 

“I’m sorry.” And he _was_ , he truly was. Asbo blew out a harsh breath, smoke escaping his lungs, and lifted his unoccupied hand to rub tiredly at his eyes. Eyes that were showing a _severe_ lack of sleep, now that Eggsy was looking. 

“Yeah, well I s’pose savin’ the world on a daily basis is a good enough excuse.” He threw Eggsy a small smile, pressed and thin, but an obvious effort to say _no harm done_. 

“Speakin’ o’ jobs,” Eggsy said, wanting to lighten the mood. “how’s that been goin’ for ya?”

“Almost drowned t’other day.” Eggsy blinked at him.

“You’re a fuckin’ _firefighter_ , how the fuck did you almost _drown_?! Stick yer face in front o’ the hose, did ya?” Asbo barked out a laugh, a genuine grin coming to his lips for the first time. 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya, Eggs.” 

“Trust me, bruv – the kinds of things I seen, I’d probably believe just about anythin’ you had to say.” The smile died from his cousin’s face.

“You know, when you said you was datin’ an older bloke, that weren’t exactly what I had in mind.” He said suddenly, jerking a thumb at the door behind them. Eggsy could feel his own expression become a bit guarded. 

“You hate him, don’t ya.” 

“I don’t _know_ him, do I.” Was the dry response, and Eggsy had to admit that was a fair point. “Look, cuz – I ain’t ever judged ya for who you fancied, not _once_. And I know you well enough to know that you ain’t the type to let yourself get talked into shite, so I ain’t worried that he’s… _coercin’_ ya or anythin’. If you says he’s a fair bloke, then I believe it – I’ll give him that chance.”

“But he’ll have ta prove it to ya himself, ain’t that it?” Asbo shot him a small smile.

“Yeah.” Eggsy nodded his head as the other boy flicked the butt of his finished smoke down the alley. 

“S’pose that’s only fair, considerin’ I sort of did the same thing to him.” He agreed. “S’alright. I know my Harry – he’ll show he’s worth trustin’, mate. They all is, ‘round here.” They stood together in companionable silence for a few moments, just enjoying the quiet. “About this missin’ girl, this _Mina_ …” 

“Don’t start in, bruv. I got too much on me mind right now to be fussin’ with girls – but she’s a sweet thing, and I liked talkin’ with her. I’m worried about where she’s gone, yeah? She’s a good mate.” Eggsy nodded his head in understanding.

“All that stuff on yer mind… anythin’ I can help with?” It looked for a moment like Asbo had been about to say something, but then decided against it.

“Nah, cuz. It’s nothin’.” 

“Oh, sure. It’s _nothin’_ to the point that you’re losin’ sleep over it.” Asbo gave him a sharp look.

“Leave _off_ , Eggs. And come see mum soon, alright?” He turned and began walking away down the alley, headed for the road. “I’ll let ya know if I find out anythin’ else.”

* * *

As Eggsy disappeared out the door after his kin, Harry turned to look at Merlin.

“Well, that went smoothly.” The unimpressed look he received in return was truly a marvel to behold. 

“You sure it’s such a great idea to be letting the boy go, Harry?” Merlin asked instead. “Eggsy’s one thing, but we don’t know this _Asbo_.” 

“Do you think people _really_ call him that?” Roxy mused, and Harry found himself inexplicably needing to suppress a smile. 

“I’m sure the name ‘Dennis’ and the relation to Eggsy via Lee’s sister was more than enough for you to make use of, old friend, so what have you found.” Harry’s tone was dry, having known that Merlin’s paranoia and inherent need to _know everything_ had more than likely lead to him investigating the boy the second he laid hands on his precious clipboard-tablet. 

“Dennis Edward Severs, newest member of the White Watch of the Mile End Fire Station. Lives in the Churchill Estates with his mother, father recently out of prison for armed robbery. Appears there was a death in the incident that lead to his father’s arrest.” Merlin made a tutting noise while he scrolled through the information before him. “Good scores during his fire training, though his instructors noted that he was generally of a rather surly disposition.” 

“So it’s not just _me_ , then.” 

“Worried about what your boyfriend’s family thinks of you?” Merlin teased, which Harry pointedly ignored. “An odd nickname, for someone who doesn’t actually _have_ an [A.S.B.O.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-social_behaviour_order) – though he clearly hasn’t been an absolute angel. Lots of the usual behaviour that you would find in boys from _that_ area.”

“Well. He’s certainly been of great help to us today.” 

“Indeed. Have to admit, I never thought I’d meet someone with a bigger chip on their shoulder than Eggsy used to have… But damned if this one doesna out-do it.” 

“Hopefully he’ll keep an ear out for anything further that could assist us.” Roxy interjected whilst pouring herself a second cup of tea. 

“I don’t think we need to worry about that, Lancelot. I have the feeling he’d do just about anything that Eggsy asked of him – they are both the type to place loyalty to their families above all else, I believe.” 

Harry found himself with his own reservations about the young lad’s involvement – but it wasn’t an issue of _trustworthiness_ , not in the slightest. He believed, just as he had with Eggsy that long-ago day, that Asbo would keep his promise not to breathe a word about Kingsman. 

No, instead he worried that the mayhem that usually encompassed their profession would cause trouble or even _harm_ to someone that Eggsy clearly cared a great deal about. Protecting Michelle and Daisy was _easy_ – they lived in a Kingsman house, travelled by Kingsman cab, and had their own (very discrete) Kingsman guards – but how could Harry possibly provide in such a way for the safety this new relation? He was not an altogether _stupid_ man; he well knew that the boy was unlikely to accept a sudden hand-out of a new home for him and his mother, with all the luxuries being associated with Kingsman entailed.

Not if his pride was anything like Eggsy’s, which Harry suspected was _precisely_ the case. 

_What to do, then? Perhaps I should just ask Eggsy himself_. When the younger agent finally returned to them, Harry resolved to do just that. The four of them discussed the case whilst Eggsy demolished the plate of biscuits on the table, and Harry waited to make his inquiry until both Merlin and Roxy had left for the day – this was a _personal_ matter, technically speaking.

“Eggsy, about your cousin – ”

“He ain’t gonna grass us up, Harry, you _know_ – ”

“ _Eggsy_.” The young man’s jaw clicked shut as he crossed his arms and slouched back on the settee. “You cannot _possibly_ believe that I, of all people, would discriminate against him because of where he _lives_. I’d like to think you know me better than that, by now.” The boy sighed, letting his arms unclench.

“Yeah, I know you ain’t like that… Sorry, Harry.” 

“I merely wanted to ask for your opinion on something.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “I worry that his involvement with this investigation will put him at risk; he _is_ only a civilian, after all.” Eggsy shrugged easily.

“Don’t think you gotta worry about that, love.” Harry frowned, this kind of cavalier attitude not at _all_ what he’d expected from the boy.

“If he’s been asking questions – ”

“He’s _one of us_ ; nobody gonna be givin’ it a second glance, not like if it’d been one of the Feds.”

“If he was spotted coming into the Shop – ”

“He was comin’ ta see his fav’rite cousin, o’ course.” 

“But should someone accost him – ”

“He can handle himself in a scrap. I _seen_ what he can do with some bike chain, mate – he’s a right _beast_ , if given a reason.”

“But if – ”

“ _Harry!_ ” Eggsy’s voice was gaining an edge that indicated he was losing his patience. _Well, that makes two of us_. “You’re worryin’ too _much_ , love. I told ya this time and fuckin’ time _again_ – we been through worse shit on the Estates than you’d’ve seen until you joined Kingsman, and we were dealin’ with it when we was practically still in _nappies_. I _know_ my bruv and I _know_ what he can fuckin’ handle – you let _me_ worry ‘bout him and what _might_ happen, alright?!”

Harry clenched his jaw, turning his head to look anywhere _but_ at Eggsy’s frustrated face.

* * *

Eggsy sighed, rubbing his hands over his short hair and trying to let some of his irritation go. You _never_ got anywhere with Harry if you started yelling.

“Look, love… I know you’re only concerned for him, and it means a lot to me that you wanna look out fer me family that way. I _really_ mean that. But you can’t take ev’rythin’ on yourself – you gotta start _trustin’_ me.” Harry’s head snapped back around, looking at him in astonishment.

“Of _course_ I trust you, Eggsy! How could you possibly think…?”

“You trust me with your life, yeah. You trust me with Kingsman and you trust that I’ll get the job done. But you _don’t_ trust me with all o’ it, Harry – don’t think that I ain’t figured _that_ out. You don’t trust me to take care o’ _myself_ and you sure as fuck ain’t trustin’ me right now when I tell ya that Asbo’s gonna be _fine_. We _know_ what we’re capable of, Harry – it’s _you_ that’s sellin’ us short.” 

Eggsy could tell that for once, he’d well and truly caught Harry off-guard with his words. In that moment, there was no genteel mask to hide what Harry was _really_ thinking – his expression was pained as he contemplated what Eggsy’d had to say, every emotion plain as day. He could see Harry’s indignation at the accusation, only to be followed by hurt that Eggsy would think those things of him, changing to something almost like _fear_ as he considered whether there might be truth to it or not. 

He waited in silence, knowing that this was a realization that Harry would have to come to on his own. 

“Have I truly been so awful?” The older man’s voice came out as barely a whisper, and Eggsy felt a little bit of his heart break. He took slow steps across the room to where Harry sat, kneeling down on the plush carpet in front of his dejected form and gathering Harry’s hands in his own. 

“Oi, look at me.” He said softly, watching as Harry swallowed roughly and reluctantly raised his gaze. “You ain’t been _awful_ , Harry – you’s this way because you love _too much_ , and that ain’t a bad thing, yeah? But you can’t control ev’rythin’ around you, love. Sometimes you gotta let it go and let someone _else_ deal with things.”

“You’re right.” He could feel the barest tremor in the hands that he held and squeezed tighter, wanting to reassure. He eased his grip out of surprise when Harry flinched. “I’m sorry, Eggsy.” Eyeing the man with concern, Eggsy rubbed his thumbs softly across the backs of Harry’s hands. 

“S’alright.”

“No, it is _not_.” Eggsy blinked in surprise. “You’re entirely right, and I shall work to rectify my behaviour. I… I will _try_.” 

“S’all I’m askin’, love.” 

“May I touch your face?” Eggsy could feel a fond smile pull to his lips at Harry’s request, nodding silently. He slipped his hands up to [cradle Eggsy’s cheeks](http://67.media.tumblr.com/a57fe92e6c83d21056db50f4521328e0/tumblr_nmcxuuquCb1u1tj05o1_540.png), stroking his thumbs over sharp cheekbones while his eyes skimmed over the younger man’s features, expression serious. “I am so _unbelievably_ fortunate to have you in my life, my dear. I hope at the very least that I’ve shown _that_.” Eggsy could feel his throat close up a little bit with emotion.

“Feelin’s mutual, love.” Taking a breath, he squeezed the outside of Harry’s thighs. “…enough o’ this sappy shit, now.” Harry laughed lightly at his words, letting go of his hold as Eggsy raised to his feet. “What you feelin’ for supper tonight?” 

“Perhaps some take-away from that Indian place you like.” 

“ _Yes_ , Harry!” He made for the door, pausing when he didn’t hear quiet footsteps following him. Turning back around, he frowned to see that Harry hadn’t moved from his chair. “Harry? You comin’?” The older man blinked at him for a moment, as though he’d been startled from thought. 

“Ah. You go ahead and order, dearest. I’ve some things to finish up here – I’ll be along shortly.” 

“…alright.” 

Eggsy left the Shop, feeling wrong-footed but not quite knowing _why_.

* * *

Harry sat in his chair, accompanied only by the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner, and stared down at his throbbing hands. 

_You don’t **trust** me, Harry._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger / NSFW Warning:** There be consensual sexy-times in this chapter

Harry was well aware of a great many of his faults.

He knew that he was stubborn to the point of childishness, that he was a victim of sometimes overbearing pride and peacock-like behaviour, that he had a bad habit of holding grudges and pettiness. He drank perhaps a touch too heavily at times, and for all his lectures about ‘gentlemanly’ deportment he had the horrible tendency of turning into a violent inferno when enraged. 

Most days, Harry did not consider himself a _good_ man – he was a bad man, who happened to use his faults to produce good outcomes for the benefit of others. 

Harry was _also_ well aware that one’s perception of oneself was rarely accurate. Clearly there was something about him that Eggsy thought was redeemable, at the very least – for why else would the young man have remained by his side for all this time? Suddenly, Harry’s brain ticked to a stop.

_For all this time._

With a jolt, he checked the date on his Kingsman watch. _My word, it’s almost been a year!_ Was it truly almost a year ago that Michaelson had taken Eggsy away? That day remained one of the worst in Harry’s life – and he was absolutely certain that the younger agent felt the same – but it also meant that it’d been nearly a year since the first time that Eggsy had kissed him. 

_And despite our work, I have never known such peace._

He should probably _do_ something to mark the occasion, should he not? That was the generally accepted _thing_ , wasn’t it? Harry’d never had a relationship that lasted anywhere _near_ this long before, so he found himself on suddenly unsure ground. More than eager to set aside his paperwork, he chose to contemplate this newest conundrum – generally there would be a nice dinner and wine, or so the films liked to purport, but that wasn’t altogether out of the norm for the two of them. Things like anniversaries were supposed to be _special_ in some way, were they not? 

What to do, what to do. 

Perhaps he needed some assistance, though he’d rather swallow _glass_ than go to Merlin for such a thing – Roxanne it would have to be. He tapped on his tablet to open private comms between his glasses and hers, hoping it wasn’t an overly inopportune time.

“Yes, Arthur?” He could hear what sounded like gunfire in the background, and was momentarily confused. 

“I thought we hadn’t made headway, as of yet, on the trafficking case?” Her snort of laughter buoyed him with the thought that at least she didn’t appear to be in the midst of something she couldn’t handle. 

“You’re correct, Sir, we haven’t. Merlin threw me in to clean up Elyan’s mess on that thing in Naples while I wait on my own.” He could hear grunts of pain – all _male_ – and decided not to worry. 

“Ah, forgive my interruption then, Lancelot.”

“No worries, Arthur – a walk in the park, this one. What can I do for you? We’re on private comms, so I can’t help but think it’s personal, yes?” He waited patiently until the loud sounds of a nearby explosion died down. 

“Something like that, yes. Are you sure I’m not being a bother?” He felt a small smile pull to his own face at the sound of her breathless laughter.

“Hardly, Sir. I was getting a bit _bored_ , if we’re being honest.” 

“Very well then. It’s just…” Suddenly, Harry could feel himself growing embarrassed – was he, at nearly fifty-three years of age, _really_ about to ask the girl for _relationship advice_?! Good _lord_. Taking a silent breath, he resolved to stop dithering and just _do_ it. “Well, I’ve just realized that very soon will be a year since Eggsy and I… and, well, I suppose I’m a bit stuck on how to mark the occasion.” Harry felt like an _idiot_. There was a moment of silence before she spoke. 

“You want advice for what to do for your anniversary?” She sounded equal parts astonished and _amused_ , and he found himself wishing for the earth to swallow him whole.

“Well, it’s only that all of the activities I’ve come to understand to be the norm for this type of event are things we do quite regularly anyways – and should it not… be something more _notable_?” There was silence again, and when she finally spoke the amusement was nowhere to be found. 

“Har – _Arthur_ … Have you never _done_ this before?” He could feel himself getting defensive, and attempted to suppress it; he _was_ asking for her assistance, after all. 

“I’ve hardly had the opportunity over the years, have I?” He returned dryly instead.

“What do you mean? If you’ll forgive my saying so, Sir, I would have thought you’d had _plenty_ of experience in it.” Harry blinked; she sounded genuinely surprised and confused by the revelation.

“…Well, when I was younger, same-sex relationships were still illegal – so generally the fear of getting caught tended to mean they didn’t _last_ overly long – and by 1983 when that all changed, I was already involved in Kingsman. Being a spy is hardly conducive to long-term relationships… unless with another spy, apparently.” He felt a bit awkward for the explanation, keenly feeling the disconnect between their ages. 

“One moment.” He waited as an alarm began blaring, the sound of computer keys being madly hammered accompanying it. A few moments later, the alarm shut off and even Harry could feel his ears ring a little bit in the ensuing silence. “Alright, I understand now, Sir. My first word of advice would be to stop worrying about what you’re _supposed_ to do, and instead focus on what’s right for the two of you specifically.” 

“Sound advice, I’m sure.”

“I know you probably want to surprise him, but what if you considered asking him what he’d like to do?” Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off before given the chance. “Hear me out! Think about it – fancy dinners, the opera, the suits – that’s all more _your_ kind of thing, right? That’s not to say that Eggsy doesn’t enjoy it, but how often have you joined in on one of _his_ kind of activities?” Harry felt himself blink in surprise.

“…It’s never occurred to me to ask, I’m a bit ashamed to admit.”

“So then, wouldn’t it be a nice _surprise_ for you to offer that instead?” It most certainly would… and how bad could it be?

“An _excellent_ suggestion, Lancelot. Thank you very much for the advice.”

“My pleasure, Sir. Hate to cut this short, but I’m about to blow up the building – might get a bit noisy.” Harry sighed.

“Is blowing up the building absolutely _necessary_ , Lancelot?” 

“Unfortunately, yes it is, Sir.” Harry pressed fingers into his forehead, already envisioning the paperwork.

“Very well, then.”

* * *

Eggsy was surprised when his mobile vibrated with a message while he was killing time in one of the HQ libraries. Pulling out the device, he was even _more_ surprised to see the message was from Roxy. _Isn’t she in Naples fixing Elyan’s fuck up?_ He opened it up, and frowned at the contents. 

_**Remember the other day when you said Harry was acting a bit strange, and he told you he loved you and you thought he was dying** _

_…the fuck, rox?_

Eggsy frowned even more, wondering why she was suddenly bringing _that_ up. 

_**I just realized something, is all** _

The text was followed by a link, and Eggsy clicked on it out of pure confusion. There was a moment where he didn’t understand, he’ll admit. The link took him to a Wikipedia page about the history of homosexuality laws in the U.K., and at first he couldn’t figure out why the hell she was sending it to him… until suddenly – and _horribly_ – the light bulb fucking switched _on_. 

It would’ve been illegal to be gay when Harry was growing up.

Eggsy tried to picture what it would have been like; he’d gotten a lot of flack for his _tastes_ on the Estates – of fucking _course_ he had – but he’d never had to face the threat of fucking _prison_ for it. His mind flashed back to that day, of standing over Harry in his chair and asking what that particular ‘I love you’ had been for, while Harry smiled sadly and replied “ _I just suppose I enjoy saying so aloud, my dear_ ”.

How many times had Harry loved someone, and not been able to say so out loud from fear that he’d one day see the inside of a cell for it? How many times did Harry have to bottle up every little good thing he felt? And what about _Kingsman_? Surely if _Chester fucking King_ had turned his great old nose up at letting _commoners_ into their ranks, he’d probably been even _less_ fucking welcoming to gays – had he known about Harry? Or had the older man been forced to maintain his silence even after the laws had changed in the eighties? 

Suddenly all the little jokes Eggsy had made about Harry’s repressed nature weren’t so fucking funny anymore. 

_Think I just had the same realization, Rox. Thanks._

Eggsy slumped down further in his seat, pocketing his mobile and staring at the ceiling while he thought. He’d always sort of figured that Harry’s reserved personality came from his upbringing – that like, it was just something that posh parents sort of trained you to. He’d tried _many_ times to picture what life might have been like for Harry growing up, but somehow it’d never occurred to him to think about how growing up being _gay_ would’ve maybe affected things. 

In all of his lectures to Harry about how he didn’t _know_ how hard it was growing up on the Estates like Eggsy did, it hadn’t ever tweaked that maybe _he_ didn’t know fuck-all about how hard it might have been for _Harry_ in some ways.

He was sort of ashamed of himself – he’d always firmly believed that a person shouldn’t be judged by how they appeared (he’d had people do that to _him_ plenty of times, after all)… but there he’d gone and done just that same thing to Harry. 

What a fucking hypocrite he was. 

It was _still_ eating away at him that night as they sat on the sofa and watched a film, Drew Barrymore making a fetching Cinderella on their screen – but he found he couldn’t concentrate on a single bit of it. The _real_ part of his earlier revelations that was sticking with him wasn’t the thought of how many times Harry’d been unable to say the words _I love you_ , but rather… well, how many times had he been able to _hear_ it?

Because it stood to reason that if Harry couldn’t feel free enough to say it himself, neither would anyone else. Not only in the _romantic_ sense either, what about his family? Had they known he preferred men? Did they stop loving him when they found out? 

Eggsy’d known from early on that he didn’t care much about a person’s gender – whether boy, girl, both or neither – he liked people for _who_ they were, and sod the rest. His aversion to being touched had sort of put a block on normal relationships for him anyways, so when he fancied a person it hadn’t tended to go very far past a harmless crush. Dean and the Estates had been hell when it came to that, but his mum had never been anything less than supportive of him. And his cousin Dennis had always been real quick with his fists if anyone’d made comments about it in his hearing, had always told Eggsy that there weren’t anything wrong with loving people the way he did. 

Had Harry grown up with that kind of support, or had his family stopped saying they loved him then and there? He was hit with a sudden _need_. Turning to Harry, he drank in the older man’s handsome features while he waited for him to realize where Eggsy’s attention lay. It didn’t take long before Harry raised a brow at him for the staring.

“Eggsy?” 

“Harry… I love you.” There was a surprised stillness to Harry’s body, undetectable had Eggsy not been watching him so closely. A soft smile made its way to the older man’s lips. 

“I love you as well, my dear.” Grabbing the remote, Eggsy cut off the film and grabbed Harry about one wrist, tugging him upwards gently. He led the two of them upstairs to the bedroom, practically able to _feel_ the amusement rolling off of his partner, but unable to drum up such lightness himself. He had this _urge_ , he need to _show_ him, to make it _clear_ … He started slipping the buttons of Harry’s shirt from their moorings, unwrapping the two of them from their clothing with a concentrated seriousness to his face. 

Every time that he and Harry had done explicitly _sexual_ things, there was always a part of Eggsy’s brain that held on to a bit of fear – not of _Harry_ , never of Harry. It was more fear that his aversion would suddenly rear its head, and he’d need to stop… which _had_ actually happened a time or two. 

But this time… Eggsy wasn’t afraid of that. Because this wasn’t about _him_ – this was for _Harry_ , completely for Harry. He wanted to _worship_ him, to show him just how important he was, how _loved_ he was. It was suddenly _essential_ that Eggsy do this for him.

* * *

Harry allowed himself to be pressed back onto their bed, hands automatically coming to rest on Eggsy’s thighs as he straddled Harry’s lap. He wasn’t entirely certain what it was that had brought about such a mood for the young man, as it hadn’t escaped his noticed that Eggsy had spent a great deal of the afternoon and evening apparently lost in thought. 

No words were said between them as Eggsy gently set teeth into Harry’s throat, the pressure shooting a thrill up his spine and making his breath catch. He let his hands wander over Eggsy’s soft skin, marvelling at the feel over top of hard muscle and sinew – it wasn’t by far the first time that Harry had wondered how the young man could be so strong but so _soft_ at the same time, and he was certain it probably wouldn’t be the last. 

He was surprised when, as he reached for Eggsy’s cock with the intent to do his own part in this act between them, instead his hands were captured and gently pressed down to the bed beneath him. 

“Let me…” Eggsy breathed, hot breath washing out against Harry’s stomach as he moved lower, and… well, who could possibly say ‘no’ to _that_? The young man seemed determined to move slowly, to take his time, and Harry couldn’t say he minded – most times when they were both in the mood for such activities, it tended to all go about in a bit of a _rush_ , though no less spectacular for it. 

His muscles jumped at the first touch of Eggsy’s tongue, the sensation of being surrounded by his hot and wet mouth almost more than he could bear; it was not often that Eggsy would do such things, and Harry had never asked for his reasons _why_ , preferring instead to focus on the fact that he was in receipt of a rare gift. He was so distracted by it, in fact, that he somehow completely missed that the other had rummaged through the night table drawer for a familiar tube. When Eggsy released him to take a breath and sit up straighter, Harry pressed himself forward to reach for where Eggsy’s hand had disappeared behind himself.

“No,” The younger man said, grabbing Harry about the wrist with his free hand and pressing it down to the mattress once again. “just lay back and enjoy, Harry, for fucks sake.” There was the barest hint of exasperation and humour to his voice, and Harry found himself smiling despite the fact that to watch his lover stretch himself open and not partake was something akin to _torture_. A delightful one, but torture nonetheless. 

Eggsy’s unoccupied hand soon found Harry’s hard length, stroking him slowly while his fingers continued to twist inside himself – there was something undeniably _beautiful_ in the sight, and Harry marvelled that he was permitted to have such a wondrous creature in his life. 

After long moments, Eggsy moved forward on his lap to press against the flushed head of Harry’s cock, thighs flexing as he slowly eased himself down in a positively _maddening_ slide. Harry watched a flush come to the younger man’s face as he seated himself fully, the throb of him exquisite. He pushed himself up, pressed with Eggsy chest-to-chest as he let one arm snake under and around one luscious thigh, using the grip for leverage as he rolled his hips. Eggsy’s breath stuttered into a gasp, his arms coming about Harry’s shoulders and clinging sweetly. 

“That’s not exactly layin’ back and enjoyin’…” Harry couldn’t help his breathless chuckle.

“There is no greater enjoyment than having my hands on _you_.” 

“Sweet talker.” Harry scraped his teeth over a sharp collarbone in reproach, enjoying the high keen that his movements won him as Eggsy twisted fingers into his rapidly curling hair. 

There would _never_ be a greater pleasure than the feeling of Eggsy writhing in his lap, of the heat of him and the sounds of breathy moans and gasps as Harry drove into his body. Their movements were still slow – a devastating mix of wet sliding and ruthless grinding, the sensations all the more potent for their drawn-out nature. 

“ _Harry…_ ” Eggsy gasped, hot breath at his ear and tracing shivers down the larger man’s spine. He turned his head, aiming for a kiss and growling in pleasure as he caught Eggsy’s lower lip in his teeth. Harry’s entire world was narrowed down to the two of them, and nothing else. “I… love you. _Harry, I love you!_ ” The words – though said _many_ times between them – hit him as never before. 

“ _My Eggsy_ …” He breathed, feeling himself drawing desperately nearer to the edge. 

“Yours,” Was the reply, making his mind spin as it always did. “ _Always_ yours, Harry!” _Yes_ , the possessive beast within his chest whispered, _stay with me – be mine always_. He tightened his grip on Eggsy’s thigh while his other arm wrapped around the smaller man’s back and he grasped at his shoulder, using both to drag Eggsy’s body down more firmly into his lap. “Fuck, _Harry!_ ” He could feel warm wetness spreading between them, the sudden throb of Eggsy around him driving him over the edge as well. 

They clung to each other, panting breaths as they floated back down from the high of the endorphins; Eggsy remained in Harry’s lap, the occasional twitch of his muscles around him almost enough to have him gasping in oversensitivity, but he was unwilling as of yet to let the smaller man go. Eggsy shifted only enough to cradle Harry’s face between his palms, using the grip to press him into a deep kiss. 

“ _Harry_ …” He said again, breaking the kiss but pressing their foreheads together in a tender movement that made Harry's throat tight with emotion.

“I love you, Eggsy.” The words seemed far too simple for what he was feeling, but he had no others to use. 

“Hey, Harry? Promise you’ll tell me that all the time, alright? Like… whenever you’s feelin’ it, just say it out loud, yeah?” Harry swallowed heavily, turning his head slightly to send their lips to brushing against each other. 

“Alright, Eggsy. I promise.”


	7. Chapter 7

It’d been a long day at home of _mind-numbingly_ boring medical leave, and Eggsy was busy blearily digging in the cupboard for the tea tin when he found himself shoving aside a small white cardboard box. Absentmindedly glancing at the packaging, he did a bit of a double-take when he realized it was JB’s heart-worm medication.

_Oh yeah, shouldn’t he be due for another dose soon?_

Given that the pills only needed to be taken every six months, he naturally had a bit of a hard time keeping it in mind, which is _precisely_ why Harry’d insisted early off that he start writing the due dates on their calendar, so as to avoid missing any. 

He sleepily shuffled his way over to said calendar, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to check, and silently cursed himself when he found that he’d already missed it by three days. _Bugger_. 

“JB! Here, boy!” 

Looking at the current date, he could feel something niggling at the back of his brain. _The seventeenth… Isn’t there something important about the seventeenth this month?_ There was nothing written down – which Harry was usually _obnoxiously_ meticulous about – but Eggsy couldn’t quite escape the thought that he was missing something. 

Knowing that usually the harder you tried to chase a thought, the more difficult it would be to actually catch, he decided to momentarily shrug it off and go back to the task at hand.

“ _Oi!_ JB get your pudgy li’l arse in here!” The skittering of tiny pug nails on hardwood sounded out in the silent house, Eggsy snorting a laugh when the dog came racing into the kitchen, obviously expecting some kind of treat. “Right then.” He pulled off his track jacket in favour of his tee, knowing that what he was about to do would only get it _covered_ in fur. “Come here, boy… _Good boy_!” He wheedled, springing into action as soon as the wiggly little body was in range. 

He lunged for JB, picking him up from the floor and getting a good grip while he turned back towards the medication. The second the pug spotted the familiar white box, he started to struggle – Eggsy tightened his grip as short legs began to kick.

“Come _on_ , boy – you know you hafta have it!” He managed to get the pill out of its packaging one-handed, trying to be gentle as he pushed it into the back of the complaining pug’s mouth. He’d learned from past experience to juggle the small body enough so that he could hold JB’s mouth closed with one hand – so that he couldn’t just spit the pill back out, the little _shit_ – while using the other to rub his throat to encourage him to swallow it. 

He’d never in his _life_ seen someone so difficult to give medication to. Well… no one except maybe _Harry_. 

He grinned in victory as he felt the dog finally swallow, beginning to bend so that he could put JB back down on the floor now that the ordeal was over. A still-flailing paw caught him in the wrist, sharp little doggy nails scraping over thick scar tissue and causing Eggsy to let go with a curse; thankfully, JB was close enough to the ground at that point that he didn’t have far to fall. It was just a small scratch – not even bloody – and probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it hadn’t been for the fact that the area was already so damaged to begin with. He absentmindedly ran a hand over the ridge of scarring circling his wrist, seeing its twin on the other.

_Hard to believe it’s been a year._

On the heels of that thought, Eggsy’s eyes snapped back to the calendar in surprise. _The seventeenth… It’s been a year._ A year to the day that Michaelson and he had resolved their unfinished business, which left him feeling cold at the realization. It didn’t last long, however, as it was followed almost immediately by another – the fact that it _also_ meant that it’d been a year ago _that very day_ that he’d drummed up all of his courage and had kissed Harry for the first time. 

_Holy fuckin’ **hell** – I been with Harry for a year now._

The thought chased away the lingering coldness, pulling a smile to his lips; he’d never believed that he’d be able to have this… _any_ of this. A home, a loving partner, security and comfort. In his darkest moments, he’d halfway believed that he didn’t _deserve_ to have it – but he knew so much better now. He deserved the life he’d built for himself… He deserved _Harry_. 

He was only partially through the thought of _I should do something_ when he heard the lock click in the front door, signalling Harry’s return home. _Well, fuck_. 

“Eggsy?”

“In the kitchen, love.” The tempered beat of polished oxfords against the floor, only a breath before his tall form appeared around the entrance way. A pause – sharp glance taking in the white box, the tawny fur all across his tee, and Eggsy’s hand still wrapped around his stinging wrist – and then a rueful smile, even as concern pulled at dark eyes. 

“Late to JB’s medication again, I see.” 

“Don’t start.” He said with a chuckle, letting go of his wrist and reaching instead to pull off his now filthy shirt. His shield pendant around his neck gave a little jingle as it was jostled, the delicate sound drawing Harry’s gaze as the tightness in his frame suddenly eased. “Alright, Harry?” 

“I missed you today.” It wasn’t often that the older man would say those kind of things, and it immediately drew Eggsy’s attention – clearly he wasn’t the _only_ one to realize what day it was. He let out a near-silent sigh, coming closer to where Harry’s lanky frame was leaned against the edge of the entrance. He lifted his hands, cradling the other man’s cheeks and running his thumbs softly over Harry’s warm skin. 

“I spent my day _here_ , in _our_ house, doing _our_ washing and taking care of _our_ dog – yes, he belongs to both of us now, just make your fuckin’ peace with that – and wonderin’ when you was gonna be comin’ home to me. I haven’t gone anywhere, Harry.” He felt it when one of the taller man’s arms wrapped carefully around his waist, the heavy swallow of his throat telling Eggsy that he’d hit the nail on the head. 

“I didn’t expect it to be so… _difficult_ , given everything that we see in the line of duty,” Harry confessed quietly. “but I found myself spending the whole day in the fear that I would come home and you would be… _gone_.” Eggsy’s heart ached, the evidence of just how devastating a thought that was written across the older man’s expression plainly. 

“He’s _dead_ , love. We know that better than anyone, yeah? I ain’t goin’ anywhere, so long as you want me – and if some fuckin’ _wanker_ got the thought in their head to try and take me away again, I’d give the mother fucker what was comin’ ta him, swear down.” A small smile pulled to Harry’s lips.

“I know you would.” 

“Next year, instead of worryin’ your bloody head all day, just gimme a call – wouldn’t that be better? You could hear me voice and know that everythin’ was alright, yeah?” He shifted his hands, one dropping to cradle the side of Harry’s neck while he brushed the backs of his fingers over the scar on the other man’s temple with the other.

* * *

_‘Next year’_. The words brought lightness to the heavy dread that had pulled at Harry for the entirety of the day, easing something clenched tight in fear deep within him.

_‘Next year’_ Eggsy had said, easy as breathing – as though it was a foregone conclusion that they would still be here, _together_ , as though there was no other possibility. As though the boy couldn’t even _conceive_ that by this time next year he might not _want_ to be with Harry anymore. 

“…’sides,” The young man suddenly said, dropping his hand from Harry’s temple to tap it lightly against his chest. “We’ve got more important things ta focus on today.” He could feel a grin pulling to his own lips, using his grasp around Eggsy’s waist to shift them slightly to the side so that he could bring his other arm forward from behind the entrance way wall. 

“Indeed we do.” 

The expression on Eggsy’s face when he saw the bouquet of flowers would stay with Harry until his dying breath, he was absolutely certain. He’d dithered for a few moments about buying flowers at all – so many years of being trained that they weren’t an acceptable gift for a _man_ had been hard to overcome – but ultimately Harry’d said _fuck it_ to tradition and decided to purchase them regardless. Who said that flowers could only be given to women anyways?

If Eggsy had anything like a ‘safe space’ – aside from their home, of course – it was the gardens at the Kingsman Mansion; he’d always found a sense of peace and comfort there, particularly during the period of Harry’s ‘death’, and had often spent time amongst the flowers with his sister. The bouquet that Harry had purchased was [varying shades of purples](http://creativeblooms-perthflorist.com.au/shop/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/m/i/mixed_flower_bouquet_in_hues_of_purple_1.jpg) (Eggsy’s favourite colour, naturally), and he’d made certain to include some of the flowers that the young man had seemed to favour – Eggsy’d remarked once that though roses were certainly beautiful, he’d always thought that the traditional bouquet of red was a bit _boring_.

His face showed nothing but stunned amazement, his free hand raising to touch one of the blooms so delicately that the petals hardly moved at all – Harry felt equal parts fondness for the gentle nature that Eggsy sometimes worked so hard to cover up, as well as sadness at the young man’s hesitancy to touch. Even after all this time, it was clear that Eggsy was unused to having nice things – that some part of his subconscious very likely still feared that he would get attached, only to have them taken away.

“I… these for me?” He breathed, and where some might have responded _‘Obviously’_ , Harry could hear the small thread of disbelief to his tone. 

“Of course, my dear.” He said instead, as the boy finally used both hands to take the flowers. Harry smiled fondly as he promptly buried his face in them, eyes closing as he enjoyed the varying scents. It was but a moment before Eggsy raised his face, looking a bit guilty.

“…I’ll be honest, love… I may’ve only just realized what day it was not ten minutes ago.” Harry couldn’t help bursting out laughing, noticing that the tight expression on Eggsy’s face eased as he did so. 

“I need no other gift than _you_ , my dear.” He chuckled some more as the younger man pulled a face.

“…That was so bad, Harry.” He turned away to pull an empty vase from one of the cupboards, and Harry enjoyed watching the play of flexing muscles in his bare back as he filled it with water and began arranging the bouquet within. “So ‘m assumin’ you got some kind o’ plan… Where we headin’ for dinner, then?” 

“Actually…” Eggsy turned at the sound of his voice, one eyebrow cocking up in interest. “I was given what I rather hope is sound advice, and I’d thought we do something a bit different.” 

“ _Advice_? Now this I’ve _got_ to hear.” Harry rolled his eyes at the cheek, but inwardly could feel a nonsensical pull of nerves. 

“I’d thought that perhaps I’d leave the plans for the evening in _your_ capable hands, this time.” Eggsy’s expression turned to confusion.

“But I don’t know all them fancy-arse places like you do…?” 

“No, I… well I’d thought we might go somewhere that _you_ would like to go. A bite to eat, an activity of your choosing…”

“What, really?” The surprise on the young man’s face was enough to tell Harry that he’d quite obviously failed their relationship in this way – the fact that they’d gone a year without him ever _once_ having offered to do such a thing was _deplorable_. He would clearly have to rectify the situation from thereon and ensure that it became a bit more of a regular thing for them. 

“Yes, really.” Eggsy seemed to be giving it some thought, before a hint of nervousness worked its way to his face.

“Like… _anythin’_?”

“Yes, Eggsy.” 

“Seriously _anythin’_?”

“ _Yes_ , Eggsy. I promise I will be fully content with whatever you choose.” The boy cleared his throat, before crossing his arms across his bare chest, leaving Harry to wonder just what he was about to suggest that would have him suddenly feeling defensive. 

“Er, well… Den – I mean, _Asbo_ – was tellin’ me that a work mate o’ his has been doin’ some cage fightin’ on the side; they got it all set up at this pub that we used ta knock ‘round at… And uh, some o’ me mates was thinkin’ they’d go ta see it tonight?” Harry blinked, the suggestion far from what he’d expected. “I ain’t much for the fightin’,” He rushed to explain further, perhaps misinterpreting Harry’s silence. “but it’d be nice ta see the boys again? And… well, you ain’t never met me mates yet, so…” Suddenly, Eggsy’s hands came up to scrub over his face. “Y’know what? Nevermind. That ain’t like… _romantic_ or nothin’, just forget it.” 

“I’d be delighted to meet your friends.” Though Eggsy was right – going to a pub to watch _cage fighting_ was hardly romantic – Harry found himself pleased with the suggestion nonetheless. Roxy had been entirely correct in her observation of their typical outings; Eggsy had not once hesitated to integrate himself into Harry’s interests and social circle, but Harry himself hadn’t ever done the same in return – it was long overdue, and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend their anniversary than to be given the opportunity to experience that other side of Eggsy. 

“… _seriously_?!” Eggsy’s voice was shocked. 

“But of course, my dear. Though it’s only occurred to me that I’ll perhaps need your input on some appropriate clothing.” The boy let out a startled laugh at that, pulling out his mobile and tapping away – presumably to let his friends know to expect them. 

“Yeah, alright – let’s get us dressed, then.”

* * *

Eggsy still couldn’t believe that Harry hadn’t laughed him out of the house for suggesting that they spend their anniversary in a back-alley pub with his ridiculous mates. 

_What the bloody hell was I **thinking**._

Though there was one up-side already: Harry looked _absolutely fucking delicious_ in casual clothes, fucking hell. In all the time they’d known each other – both before V-Day _and_ after – the most under-dressed that the older man seemed to get (pyjamas excepted, of course) was nice trousers paired with a button-down and those grandad cardigans that he liked so much. 

That was absolutely _not_ what Eggsy’d dressed him in for going to the pub.

He’d dived through Harry’s side of the wardrobe until he’d found a pair of dark denims that probably hadn’t seen the light of day since the fucking _eighties_ , but they’d still fit him fine and would do the job. The top was where it got difficult; Harry’d been a good sport and had waited silently and patiently on their bed while Eggsy’d gone at it, but there hadn’t been a _single fucking thing_ that wouldn’t have looked ridiculously out of place – last resort it was, then. 

Turning instead to his _own_ side of the wardrobe, Eggsy had dug through his tops – thank Christ that he sometimes liked to wear things a bit on the bigger side, because the differences between their bodies were not making things easy; Eggsy tended to be more thick and compact strength, whereas Harry was long and lean like a whipcord – wide at the shoulders but ridiculously thin in the waist. 

He’d settled on a dark chocolate brown Henley that he didn’t even remember Dagonet making for him, deciding that the colour would match Harry’s warm eyes perfectly. The effect was fucking _devastating_ , in all the best ways – the shirt clung to the larger man’s shoulders and chest, but sat just a shade loosely at the waist and in the biceps, with the smallest _hint_ of chest hair peeking out from where a few of the buttons had been left open to give a bit more stretch to the fabric. 

He’d been a second away from saying _fuck it_ and taking Harry to bed instead when he’d gotten a message from Jamal asking what the fuck was taking them so long. _Time for that later_.

He could feel nervousness creep in as they entered the dimly lit shithole that used to be like home; even though he _knew_ that Harry never would, he couldn’t help but worry that he and his mates and his old way of life were all about to be _judged_. There was a roar of noise almost immediately as they pushed through the door, the cage in the middle of the room already occupied and in full-swing. He smirked as Harry ran a hand through damp hair that had begun to curl with the drizzle of rain that had been outside, reaching up with the intent to lower the hood of his track jacket. Before he could do so, there was a shout to his left.

“Oi, Asbo!” Eggsy blinked as he turned toward the call, thinking that he’d spot his cousin, before he realized that it had been aimed at _him_. “There’s a good lad!” Called a strange man – who’d _definitely_ already seen the bottom of a few pints – before the person grabbed him by the face, using his thumb to push the edge of his hood out of the way so that he could press a hard, smacking kiss just over Eggsy’s cheekbone.

_What the ever-loving **fuck**._

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Harry’d also turned when he’d heard the voice, the muscles in the older man’s shoulders becoming tight with tension as a scowl slipped onto his face and his mouth opened, probably to object. He couldn’t focus on all of that really, though – the moment that he’d felt rough hands and the waft of beer-tinted breath over his face, Eggsy’s body had completely _locked up_. His heart began beating a frantic tattoo as he _just fucking froze_. 

“I’m buyin’ the next round!” The man exclaimed gleefully, letting Eggsy’s head go as he promptly turned around and began pushing his way to the bar without another word. 

His _face_. The stranger had grabbed him, _kissed_ him, on his fucking _face_. 

He felt a touch to his shoulder and flinched, feeling like shit once he realized that it’d been _Harry_ that had touched him. The hand had quickly withdrawn, Harry’s expression concerned and apologetic and _God fuckin’ damn it, why do I ruin ev’rythin’?!_

“Oi, cuz!” Eggsy blinked, suddenly seeing his cousin stood in front of them – Asbo had one hand out, reaching but not touching, and the other was balled tightly in the pocket of his jacket. “Alright, bruv? That’s me boss, don’t mind him, mate. Prob’ly thought you was me.” Asbo was studying his expression carefully, and Eggsy forced himself to shake it all off. 

“Yer boss usually go ‘round [kissin’ ya on the cheek](http://i.imgur.com/MhDVnH4.jpg)?” He asked instead with forced humour, trying to put them back on easier footing. Asbo twitched a shoulder up in a half-shrug.

“Yeah, he does it to pretty much all o’ us on the Watch, don’t mean nothin’.” 

“Said somethin’ ‘bout buyin’ the next round.” He could feel a genuine smile start to creep onto his face when his cousin cursed soundly.

“Like mindin’ a bunch o’ fuckin’ _toddlers_ , swear to Christ.” He muttered, waving at them as he started pushing through the crowd in the same direction that the man had gone. Eggsy huffed a laugh, his uneasiness beginning to dissipate. 

“Shall we?” Harry asked, still watching Eggsy carefully, but showing signs of beginning to relax as well. They made their way through the crowd to the back of the pub where Jamal had said they’d be waiting, finding his two best mates sat at a table and screaming at fighters currently in the cage. Ryan looked like he was about two seconds away from falling off his chair. 

“Sit down proper before your hurt yourself, you fuckin’ moron.” He called as a greeting, grinning when both their attention snapped straight to him. 

“Eggsy!” They both called, raising their pints of beer like a toast before cackling with laughter. “Fuckin’ took you long enough, bruv!” Jamal bitched good naturedly, though his gaze had already switched to be taking in Harry. “Cheers, mate. ‘m Jamal and this scrawny li’l wanker is Ryan.” He said as he leaned forward, holding out a hand to Harry, which the older man easily ducked closer to accept. Eggsy felt some of his nerves creep away at the calm smile on Harry’s face, and the fact that his friends were – momentarily – behaving themselves. 

“A pleasure. I’m Harry.”


	8. Chapter 8

Harry wasn't altogether certain what he'd expected meeting Eggsy's mates to be like, but if pressed he would have probably assumed that they would have been wary of him – perhaps defensive of Eggsy, given Harry's age and the fact that they more than likely knew about the younger man's time on Smith Street – but he found himself pleasantly surprised.

Neither of them seemed overly shocked at how much older he was (whether this was due to Eggsy having already informed them, or just a generally unflappable nature, Harry couldn't be certain), but it made for a much less tense evening than he'd anticipated. He learned through the course of their ofttimes rambling conversations that Ryan worked as a runner for a local pizza delivery place, and that Jamal spent time with his uncle's construction crew – being paid in cash on the side, as he wasn't properly licensed.

Harry also learned that the both of them thought Michelle was rather attractive. 

“I'm tellin' ya, mate – Eggsy's mum is _fit as fuck_ , ya get me?” Where he'd expected Eggsy to jump to the defense of his mother's honour, he was surprised when the boy merely huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes at the two of them. 

“And fuckin' _worlds_ outta your leagues, lads. Keep dreamin' though.” 

“Oh, I'll be _dreamin'_ alright.” The banter between the three was infectious, and Harry found himself laughing more than he had in... well, he couldn't even remember, if he were being perfectly honest. The pub was crowded and filthy, the stout he was drinking was _terrible_ , and the shouting over the match in the cage to the left of them was at times positively _deafening_ , but despite it all... Harry was actually rather enjoying himself. 

It was hardly the first time he'd been in such a venue – a Kingsman needed to blend into all sorts of places, after all – but it was certainly the first where he wasn't _on duty_ , so to speak. He found that it was much different when one could relax back into their surroundings rather than focus on the hunt. He was having such a good time, in fact, that he was nearly surprised when Eggsy got up to go fetch another round of drinks and the smiles quickly dropped off their faces. _Nearly_ surprised, as he'd been somewhat expecting it the whole evening.

“Listen, mate...” Jamal leaned forward, face serious but not altogether _negative_. “I ain't gonna pull no 'shovel talk' here, 'cos reality is that our bruv knows what he's about and can make up his own mind, yeah?” Harry nodded in acknowledgement, and kept quiet to allow the young man to say his piece. “He got some right awful shit in his past, which I figure you already know about, 'cos Eggsy ain't the type to get into somethin' _serious_ without bein' honest. So's all I wanna know is what you's expectin' outta this – you been with him a year, so he says, so I figure this ain't just some flash for ya. But...”

“I understand,” Harry replied, and he _did_ understand their concerns. “were I in your position, I would be just as hesitant – given the fact that I'm nearly twice his age, and his superior at work as well – and I will tell you in all honesty that I don't expect _anything_ of him. I certainly _hope_ to continue to enjoy his company, but I don't _expect_ it, you see? I will be fully content to continue this for as long as he'll have me, and should there come a day that he decides to move on, that will be his choice. I would _never_ seek to keep him against his will.” Both of the younger men regarded him seriously for a moment, before glancing at each other with an expression unreadable to Harry.

“Christ, guv... You got it real bad, yeah?” Ryan blurted out, making Harry blink a bit in surprise. That certainly hadn't been the response he'd expected. “Fuckin' hell, I bet he talked ya into lettin' that mangy mutt o' his onto the bed an' all.” Harry snorted a laugh at that.

“I'm not _that_ besotted, thank you. The day that dog is allowed on the bed is the day I see the inside of my grave.” They all shared a laugh at that, but Harry noticed that Jamal sobered quickly once again.

“Oi, guv – that, what you said... Eggsy ain't like that, a'right? I know me bruv, he ain't gonna walk away from ya just like that.” A thin smile pressed its way to Harry's lips.

“Yes, I know. There are days where it seems hard to believe, however.” Normally he wouldn't have been so candid with virtual strangers, but they were important to Eggsy and therefore deserving of at least _that_ much respect from Harry for the fact. The conversation was cut short regardless when noise erupted to their left – at first, Harry'd just dismissed it as having to do with the match finishing up in the cage, but he quickly realized that it seemed to be more from the direction of a nearby table.

“The fuck's goin' on over there?” Ryan interjected absently, his brow pulling into a confused frown while Jamal craned his neck to get a better look. 

“Prob'ly just some piss-heads havin' a go...” 

No one around them seemed particularly surprised when the noise escalated into shoving, nor when the scrape of chairs being quickly emptied sounded. Shoving soon became punches, the figures tussling with each other drunkenly – and, in Harry's professional opinion, quite _ineffectually_ – and he'd been all set to ignore the ruckus like everyone else seemed to be.

That was, until the flash of a knife blade caught his eye. 

_Goddamn it... Eggsy's going to kill me for this._

* * *

Eggsy pushed his way through the crowd, resolutely shoving down the queasiness rising in his throat from contact with so many warm bodies, when he spotted his cousin in the corridor leading to the loo. Quickly changing direction, he figured Harry and the boys could wait a few more minutes for their beers.

“Heya, cuz.” Eggsy called, stopping short at Asbo's side just as he was lighting up a cigarette. “You ever think that maybe a fuckin' _fireman_ should know better than to smoke, mate?” Asbo huffed a laugh, wispy trails escaping his mouth before he took a deeper drag.

“We all fuckin' smoke, Eggs, even Kev.” He chuckled.

“Kev?” Asbo's face pulled into an apologetic grimace.

“Uh... my boss, from before.” Eggsy's mind flashed back to lips pressed in a hard kiss over his cheekbone, and he forcefully shook the thought off. “Sorry 'bout that again, bruv.” 

“Weren't nothin'.” Asbo gave him a knowing look. “Alright, fine. But I been doin' better with the... the touchin' thing. Think it just took me by surprise tonight.” They stood in comfortable silence, Eggsy absently pushing up the sleeves of his track jacket when the heat of the room became a bit much. He noticed after a moment that Asbo was staring at his arms intently.

“Where'd they go?” The other boy murmured, and Eggsy was confused for a second. 

“Where'd _what_ go?” He asked. Asbo glanced around, as though checking that they wouldn't be overheard.

“You had scars on your wrists t'other day. At your shop. Bad ones.” Suddenly it clicked, and Eggsy couldn't help huffing a small laugh. He looked down at his perfectly unmarked arms, thinking (not for the first time) that Merlin could very well be an _actual_ fucking magician for the tech he could develop. 

“It's sort of like... wrist bands, I guess.” He said in a hushed tone, Asbo leaning closer to listen. “Merlin – the bald one, yeah? – he had 'em made for me, for when I'm out on _jobs_. Sort of a liability when you're undercover to have somethin' that noticeable, innit? Plus, they's made outta this special fabric that we got to help protect the skin from gettin' tore up even more, right.” His cousin blinked in surprise, flicking the butt of his smoke down the corridor.

“...'s fuckin' _amazin'_ , bruv – ya can't even see that there's somethin' there... just looks like normal skin.” He lifted a hand, hovering it near Eggsy's wrist. “Can I?” 

“...o' course.” Asbo ran light fingers over his wrist, pausing when he found the edge of the band.

“I wouldn've even known if ya hadn't told me – I can hardly feel it.” He gently twisted Eggsy's wrist around, obviously trying to see if he could spot the difference. 

“Yeah... I don't usually put 'em on unless I'm workin', but...”

“But you don't want your mates askin' questions you can't answer?” Eggsy nodded, glad that he understood. 

“Oi, Denny... Can I ask ya somethin'?” He waited as his cousin let go of his wrist, turning to lean against the wall. “What's the deal with the nickname anyways? I mean... you ain't _got_ an A.S.B.O. after all.” The other boy's face was serious as seemed to give it some thought. 

“When I first joined the Watch, I think the rest of 'em was sort of... _suspicious_ o' me, comin' from the Estate and all. Think they first started callin' me _Asbo_ to be insultin'.” Eggsy felt himself scowl, getting angry on his kin's behalf. “Keep yer shirt on, lemme finish. It pissed me off, yeah... but I never really argued the name all the same, right? I done some fucked up shit, me. Figured I deserved it.” 

“We _all_ did fucked up shit, bruv – that's just _life_ where we's from.” 

“I know. Mal were usually the worst one – he's me boss' best mate, and was sorta in charge while Kev was... gone for awhile. But Kev come back, and he gone outta his way to treat me like one o' the team. If they get to comin' down me too hard, he does somethin' nice for me in return. Soon enough, most of t'others start treatin' me diff'rent, bein'... nicer. Soon enough, they's sayin' _Asbo_ like it's a proper nickname, not an insult, yeah?” 

“And what about that other one you said? Mal?”

“Mal's a dickhead, so who gives a fuck. Pretty sure he fucked Kev's bird behind his back too.” 

“Sounds like a real gent.” Eggsy said dryly, nudging his shoulder up against Asbo's and grinning when he nudged back. “So how come when Harry asked, you picked ta be called by that instead o' your name? I ain't judgin', bruv, was just wonderin'.” 

“...s'pose it's 'cos I ain't ever really felt like I was me own person until I started with the Watch. I been tryin' to do good things there, to be better. You know the shit I got messed up in when I was spendin' time with Gog – the drugs, and the booze and the stealin' – I s'pose I just wanted to be... better.” 

“Harry told me when I first met him that I had potential, that I was worth more than what I was at the time. Goes to figure, so are _you_ , yeah?”

“Thanks, cuz.” Asbo rolled one of his shoulders, standing up from his lean on the wall. “Speakin' o' that gent o' yours... Ain't he gonna be missin' ya?”

Eggsy had just opened his mouth to reply, when shouts of ' _Fight!_ ' erupted from the back of the pub... From the general direction of the table he'd left Harry at.

_God fucking damn it._

* * *

Harry would like to say, in his defense, that it wasn't his fault.

He could hardly be expected to stand idly by whilst someone had the potential to be stabbed to death, now could he? His body had reacted on instinct, grabbing the armed man by his wrist and bringing his swing to a grinding halt. 

“Now that's hardly sporting, young man.” Harry would also like to say that he _absolutely could not be blamed_ for escalating the situation. It was in his nature to make dry remarks, after all. “At the very least you could engage in a fair fight.” 

“The fuck you doin', grandad?!” The one that he was grasping twisted his wrist sharply, clearly trying to break free. _Good luck, I'm stronger than I look_. The fight around them slowly came to a halt as the others took stock of the situation – the knife wielder's friends making themselves known by angry protests to Harry's hold on him, whilst their opponents became quite vocal in their objections to the young man's choice of a weapon over fists.

Heaving a sigh, Harry dug his thumb harshly into the wrist he held, causing the boy to drop the blade, and had to hide a wince when pain flared up in the joint of said thumb from the pressure. He could see Ryan and Jamal in his peripherals, hovering uncertainly but tensed as though ready to enter the fray if necessary – he could see why Eggsy liked them so much, they seemed to be loyal lads. 

“... _Manners maketh man_ , is it?” Harry couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips at the sound of Eggsy's voice behind him, more a feral baring of teeth than anything. 

“That remains to be seen.” He replied, as Eggsy came around him to stand to his right. He noted with some surprise that Asbo took a stance at his left. 

“Brought a knife to fist fight, did he?” Eggsy mused, his voice deceptively calm.

“...'s just fuckin' _rude_ , that is.” Asbo replied, his voice equally as calm as his cousin's, even as his hands clenched into tight fists. 

Harry was a fairly intelligent fellow; he knew very well that to the group of ruffians before them, the two young men flanking him seemed to be a much larger threat than Harry himself. He may have had the height advantage, but Eggsy was in possession of a boxer's compact strength – and Asbo had nearly two stone of weight above and beyond Eggsy's. In the eyes of the others, Harry would look merely like some frail old man in comparison. 

_Little do they know_. 

“Now, boys...” Harry began, unable to resist a subtle tone of mocking to his words. “I highly suggest that you all forget about whatever little squabble you were having, and allow the rest of us to go back to our drinks, hmm?” 

“What dumb bastard brought his fuckin' highness 'round here fer some slummin'?” One of the young men snarled derisively, and Harry sighed again.

“Harry, I ain't explainin' to the Feds why you killed a bar full o' morons.” Eggsy said seriously, and Harry had to fight to keep his expression neutral when he really just wanted to laugh. 

“Who says the Feds would catch him, bruv?” Asbo interjected, and Harry watched as the men around them began to look decidedly less sure of themselves. The one belonging to the wrist he was holding firm was still nothing short of irate, however. 

“Don't you fuckers know who this man is?!” Jamal piped up, an exaggerated look of incredulity on his face, as Ryan shook his head pityingly. 

“Lord help 'em, they got no fuckin' clue...” He said mournfully. One of the young brawlers looked between the five of them, backing away suspiciously. 

“Look, guv... I ain't wantin' no trouble from none o' you mob types, a'right?” More of the young men seemed to follow his lead, backing away from the group and returning to their seats at the surrounding tables, all whilst throwing them nervous glances. Harry let go of his hold on the one boy's wrist, biting the inside of his cheek sharply to keep from laughing at the speed by which he fled. 

“Did you boys _really_ just convince a pub full of people that I was some kind of mob boss in only four sentences?” Ryan and Jamal traded a fist bump as Asbo grinned viciously; Eggsy, however, just gave Harry an unimpressed stare.

“Can't we go to a pub _one time_ without you startin' a fuckin' fight?” 

“Apologies, my dear.” Ryan blinked in surprise, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Wait... like, _actually_?!” He looked at Harry in amazement. “Fuck yeah, guv!” 

“Oi, Eggs...” Harry turned at the sound of Asbo's voice, noticing that the young man's attention seemed to be caught on something across the pub, his brow pulled into a frown. “I'll catch up with ya tomorrow, a'right?” 

“Sure thing, bruv.” Eggsy replied, and Asbo gave a seemingly absentminded clap to Harry's shoulder as he left, looking serious. “Think we should prob'ly call it a night, boys.” Ryan and Jamal nodded in understanding, before a smirk came to Ryan's face.

“Oi, if yer man's a scary mob boss, does that make you Mad Teddy, then?” Eggsy barked out a laugh, flipping both his giggling friends the Vs as he turned to head for the exit. 

“Thank you both for an... entertaining evening.” Harry said, reaching out to shake their hands once more as they continued to look amused. “I hope we can see each other again soon.” 

“Yeah, you's pretty top class, guv. Be seein' ya.” Jamal responded with a smile. 

All in all, the night had gone fairly well, in Harry's opinion.

* * *

Eggsy had just looked out the back window and seen the state of his idiot pet when the doorbell rang the next day. Sighing to himself, he made his way to the front and checked the spy hole to see his cousin's uncomfortable face.

“You ever feel like they's all watchin' and judgin' ya?” Asbo muttered as he slid inside, once Eggsy'd opened the door. 

“All the fuckin' time, bruv. Pretty sure they think Harry's my Sugar Daddy.” Asbo choked out a laugh as he followed Eggsy down the hall. 

“Given the state o' this house, looks to me like the man's got more money than god, bruv.” He commented, giving a hilarious double-take when they passed the open door of the downstairs loo and he spotted Mr Pickles on his perch. “...the ever-lovin' _fuck_ is that?!” Eggsy burst into giggles at the horrified look on his cousin's face.

“I had the same fuckin' reaction, swear down.” He wheezed, trying to pull himself together. “ _That_ was Harry's dog, Mr Pickles. Apparently he loved him so much he didn't want to say goodbye, or summat.” 

“You do that to your mutt, and I'm disownin' ya. It's fuckin' creepy.” Eggsy scowled at the reminder of JB. 

“I might be fuckin' stuffin' him _tonight_ , swear to Christ.” Asbo raised a brow in question, which Eggsy answered by simply opening the back door and giving the other boy an unimpeded view of JB blissfully rolling around in a fucking _mud puddle_. Asbo heaved a sigh, before stripping off his track jacket, soon followed by his shirt – he shrugged at the look on Eggsy's face.

“What? The jacket's worth sixty quid and I need my Watch shirt clean for work tomorrow. Fuck off.” Eggsy shrugged back, figuring he had a fair point, and stripped off his own shirt as well. It somehow – despite JB's small size – still took the two of them to wrestle the rambunctious pug out of the mud and into the kitchen sink for washing. 

“Thought you didn't like dogs?” Eggsy asked curiously, knowing that his cousin had a healthy fear of them due to his shithead of a father. Asbo snorted a laugh.

“This ain't a dog, it's a rat.” JB was finally sitting pretty in the water, looking hilariously [blissed out](http://mauzymorn.tumblr.com/post/153186831843/pugs-cascavel-timeline-facebook) while Asbo gently rubbed expensive doggy shampoo into his fur. Eggsy boosted himself up on the counter, humming to himself absentmindedly while he let his cousin do all the hard work. 

“ _Today I don't feel like doin' anythin'_...” He sang, laughing when Asbo flicked some bubbles at him. 

“Your singin' is shit.” 

“ _Your_ singin' is shit, I'm a fuckin' _delight_.” Eggsy nearly fell off the counter when suddenly Roxy's voice sounded from the entrance way to the kitchen. 

“Well, Harry. Can't say _I'd_ object to coming home to two shirtless men.” Looking over, Eggsy spotted both Harry and Roxy standing and watching them – Roxy with a smirk, Harry with a barely-contained grimace.

“Did you _have_ to use the kitchen sink, Eggsy?” He asked with a sigh.

“You'd rather I used the pretty porcelain one in the loo, then?”

“...Fair point.” Seeing Asbo uncomfortably turn to put his back to the others, Eggsy decided to make himself useful and fetch his cousin's shirt for him. Dennis had always been a bit self-conscious about his body, which hadn't been helped by his poor excuse for a father or by that fucking moron, Gog. As he fetched their things from hall, he could hear Harry's voice. “I take it you didn't come calling today merely to bathe Eggsy's dog?”

“Yeah, no. Got some things ta tell 'bout that... special job o' yours.” Coming back into the kitchen, he tapped Asbo on the shoulder and laid his shirt out on the counter.

“S'pose I should dry him, since you did all the hard work for me, yeah?” He fussed with wrapping JB in a towel while Asbo dried his hands and covered himself back up. “You can say whatever here at the house too, mate. Ain't nobody listenin' here.” 

“Yes, please speak freely. Shall we have a cup of tea while we discuss, then? I'd brought Roxy home in order to work on this case, so your timing is excellent.” Eggsy let his now moderately-dry pet loose on the house, reaching for his own shirt to slide back on. 

“Sure, guv. If ya want.” Asbo muttered, shrugging his shoulders, though to Eggsy's familiar eye he could tell that his cousin was certainly starting to loosen up around Harry. Smiling a bit to himself, he reached for the tea tin. 

“To business, then.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Minor mentions of past domestic abuse in this chapter.
> 
> **Spoiler Warning:** Some minor spoilers for the plot of _The Smoke_ (like, they're _very_ subtle). Also, see the endnotes for about Eggsy's aunt.

“Okay.”

To Harry, the young man seemed unaccountably... _drained_. Asbo's shoulders were tense enough to make Harry's _own_ back ache, but there was a certain weariness about his eyes. He wondered if it was all of this trafficking business that was weighing on his shoulders, or if it was perhaps something else altogether. 

It'd been a very long time since Harry had allowed himself any form of closeness to someone not directly involved with Kingsman, and he was quickly finding that he no longer had an accurate measure by which to judge 'normal' reactions to the extremes that they lived within. 

“You saw summat last night at the pub, yeah?” Eggsy prompted when Asbo fell silent, and the other young man raised a hand to rub over his tired eyes. 

“Yeah. Spotted one o' them that I'd seen before when... when Mina went missin'.” Harry mentally jolted at the reminder that this whole affair was much more _personal_ to Asbo – a friend of his was in certain danger, a fact that Harry was privately ashamed to have forgotten. “I followed him outta the pub, 'til he met up with some o' his mates. They were bangin' on about some rich fucker and how he was demandin' more _stock_ , like they was talkin' about some kind o' fuckin' animal instead of _people_.” His voice burned with anger and disbelief.

“It's how them psychos are, bruv.” Eggsy's hand that had been comfortably resting on Harry's knee tightened, his fingers twisting into the loose material of his tailored trousers. “Nobody's real people to them except _themselves_. Ev'ryone else is just dumb animals to be played with.” 

_You were my dog first!_ Michaelson's hated voice rang in Harry's mind, washing him over with cold terror before an image of Eggsy tapping his Kingsman medal replaced it, his strong voice assuring that _**He** owned me first, I always belonged to him_.

“Were you able to hear a name for this man that they were discussing?” Harry asked, forcing himself to bury thoughts of the past before they became distracting. Asbo clenched his jaw tightly, just for a moment, before letting it relax again. 

“Nah. They just kept callin' him _The Posh Twat_ , wouldn't say nothin' else about him.” 

“Why's it always the rich fuckers?” Eggsy muttered, before both of the boys froze and looked at Harry and Roxy with apologetic winces, causing Roxy to burst out laughing.

“No, you're exactly right.” She chuckled.

“I find that the combination of too much money and spare time tend to make for boredom in the upper class, which leads to the pursuit of ever-larger thrills. Unfortunately, this usually escalates into activities of the criminal variety.” Harry reflected. “Perhaps the money could be blamed for the inherent need to see all others as _beneath_ them as well? Who knows, really.” 

“Yeah, it might make 'em do weird stuff like hangin' dead things on their walls.” Asbo's voice was very dry, and Harry actually had his mouth partially open to respond before it fully clicked in that the boy was making a jab at Harry himself. He paused, unsure whether it was meant in jest or criticism. _His face is so much more closed-off and difficult to read than Eggsy's_. 

“I like butterflies, they're _pretty_.” Harry replied just as dryly, allowing a small smile to twitch the corner of his lips. He was gratified when Asbo let out a snort of amusement. 

“The dog's fuckin' creepy though, mate.” 

“I'll have you know, Mr Pickles was the penultimate companion, despite his small stature.” 

“Smaller'n that rat that Eggsy calls a dog, even.” 

“Oi!” The indignant look on Eggsy's face was truly a sight to behold. “Ain't nothin' wrong with JB!”

“What's with you spy types and havin' small dogs anyways? Woulda thought you'd be wantin' somethin' big and actually _good_ fer guardin'.” 

“Eggsy thought it was a bulldog.” Roxy cut in, a patently innocent look on her face as Eggsy scowled at her. Asbo snorted another laugh.

“Y'know, cuz... fer a smart bloke, you sure is _stupid_ sometimes.” Eggsy threw one of the sofa's decorative pillows at Asbo's head, laughing when he caught it neatly before being smacked in the face.

“Piss off.” Eggsy chuckled. As much as Harry hated to bring an end to the lightness that they'd found, there was still business to discuss. 

“Was there anything else that you overheard that might be worthy of note? And could you provide us with the address of this meeting place?” Harry was sorry to see the slight smile disappear from the young man's face, but he very much appreciated how quickly Asbo was able to put himself back to the task at hand. 

“Sure, guv. I overheard one of 'em sayin' that their boss man was gonna be at some club o' his tomorrow mornin' – they was complainin' about how they can't get a hold o' him to ask questions when he's there. Said somethin' about _posh fuckers and bein' silent_ , whatever the fuck _that_ means.” Harry and Roxy glanced at each other in understanding.

“ _Diogenes_.” They said in unison, causing the two boys to frown in confusion. 

“The fuck is that, Harry?” Eggsy asked, and Harry suddenly felt as though the weight of the entire world was upon his shoulders, though it was hardly the first time. 

“It means that getting to the man in charge is going to be significantly more difficult than I was hoping for. _However_ , if he is indeed a member of the exclusive [Diogenes Club](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diogenes_Club), then that very much narrows down our list of suspects.”

“Merlin is going to have a field day with this...” Roxy sighed, and Harry couldn't agree more.

* * *

The next morning, Eggsy sat listlessly on the sofa and watched the pendulum of Harry's antique clock sway back and forth rhythmically.

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock_.

Eggsy thought that perhaps the enforced boredom of this medical leave was causing him to go bloody _mad_. The house was probably the most cleaned it'd _ever_ been, there weren't any more clothes ready for washing, and JB had somehow managed to keep himself out of trouble. Harry hadn't let him come with him to HQ that morning, saying that it was _hardly_ restful for him to be constantly still going into _work_ , and Eggsy had been left to sit at home and do _nothing_. 

He couldn't _take_ it anymore. He needed to do something – _anything_. 

Jumping up from the sofa with far more energy than was really necessary, he shoved his feet into his favourite winged trainers and swung on his black track jacket with the grey sleeves. Through a combination of free-running and transit, he found himself almost breathing a sigh of relief as the buildings around him steadily got shabbier and more covered in graffiti. 

The sight of the Churchill Estates was more like coming home than his own in Rowley Way had _ever_ been – to be honest, _all_ Council Estates were fucking shit holes, but his Auntie Rae had always tried to make their place as welcoming as possible. He sucked in a breath as he approached the door marked 'Severs', feeling nervous for some reason. _What if Auntie Rae's pissed off with me for never gettin' my arse over here to visit?_ Telling himself to suck it the fuck up, he knocked.

“Who is it?” Was called through the door, making Eggsy frown.

“Yer fav'rite nephew, innit?” He called back, beginning to feel uneasy. There was a clatter of sound from through the thick wood, before it was opened in a rush. Normally he would've delighted at the sight of his aunt's smiling face, but the clear marks of a healing black eye put a quick stop on that. 

“Eggsy, oh my love! It's been so _long_!” She gasped, before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. He gathered her to him, hugging back even as he noted the increased amount of grey in her hair and lines on her face. Life on the Estates sure as fuck took it's toll on the body, a fact that he'd somehow managed to set aside since getting his mum away from it all. 

_I shoulda done more for Dennis, for Auntie Rae. I shoulda got them out too._

“The _fuck_ happened to yer face?” He asked, his tone quiet but filled with boiling anger. She pulled out of his arms, glancing nervously up and down the corridor before tugging him into the flat by the front of his shirt and bolting the door behind them. 

“Not a thing fer you to worry about, my love.” She said soothingly, a weak and trembling smile pressing onto her lips. He was just opening his mouth to retort when her expression hardened into the same no-nonsense look that she used to level at him and Dennis when they were wee things with their grubby hands caught in the biscuit jar. “My boy's already _handled_ it, young man. Leave it be.” The tenseness in Eggsy's shoulders eased a bit.

“As he fuckin' should have. A son's _duty_ , that is.” She _tsk_ ed at him.

“You boys and yer fightin'... Fists ain't gonna solve all the world's problems, you know.” Eggsy very tactfully kept his mouth shut, rather than tell her that in all actuality his 'fighting' solved problems around the world on a _regular fucking basis_. But seeing as how that was classified information... ah well. 

“Yes'm.” She fluttered her hands at him until he parked his arse in Denny's usual chair, muttering to herself about putting the kettle on. Eggsy glanced around the flat, noting all of the small changes that had been made since his last visit, as well as what remained the same. He perked up when his aunt came bustling back into the room, lowering herself slowly into her own chair. “Ev'rythin' alright?” He asked, only for her to look at him a bit warily. “You look like you's hurtin'.”

“Oh!” Her expression cleared. “Just a bit stiff and sore, my boy. Makes gettin' up and down a bit rough, yeah?” He eyed her a bit suspiciously, somehow getting the overwhelming feeling that something he wasn't aware of was going on. 

“Sorry I ain't been over ta see you for ages...” A genuine smiled alighted on her face, setting him just a bit more at ease. 

“I'm sure you've been gettin' run ragged at that fancy job o' yours – it's all fine, love. Denny says you've been workin' real hard at that tailor shop!” She leaned closer in her chair, lifting a hand towards his face before stopping herself mid-motion, as though only just remembering that he didn't like being touched. Eggsy gave her an understanding smile, grabbing her hand and drawing it up to cradle his cheek like she'd clearly wanted to do. 

“S'alright, Auntie Rae.” He assured, and she smiled back at him softly.

“I'm so bloody _proud_ of ya, Eggsy. You and my Denny _both_ – the two of you've taken the hand that life's dealt ya, and done somethin' _good_ with it instead. It's all I ever wanted for ya... It's all your _dad_ could've ever wanted for ya.” He could feel his throat get a bit tight; she had _no idea_ how close her words were to the truth. The sharp whistle of the kettle cut into the moment, and Eggsy pressed her gently back into her chair when she made a move to stand.

“I'll get it, yeah? You just sit there and relax.” He made their cups of tea by rote, mind busily trying to piece together what in the bloody hell was apparently going on in his cousin's life that he hadn't been saying _one fucking word_ about – it wasn't like his aunt to get that emotional, and between that and the fading black eye, he was feeling increasingly uneasy. 

There was an odd moment, when he handed over her cup of tea. He watched as she simply cradled it in her hands rather than raise it to her lips, a tightness around her eyes easing as she let slip a small sigh of... relief? He had a strange sense of _déjà vu_ , until he came to the realization that he'd seen _Harry_ do the exact same thing in recent days. 

“Alright, Auntie?” He asked. “Tea's usually fer drinkin', you know.” She let out a little chuckle, finally raising the cup to take a sip. 

“Ain't nothin', love. Just the heat feels nice on these bloody hands o' mine.” 

“What you mean?”

“Oh, it's just the arthritis, my boy. Nothing serious, but gives the joints in my fingers the _devil_ of an ache.” 

“Arthritis? Ain't you a bit _young_ fer that?” He asked, even as his mind was spinning. Had Harry _always_ done that, or had it only been recently? She threw him a wryly amused look.

“Oh, bless you fer that, child. But anyways, unlike most _think_ , it ain't only us old folks that can suffer from it, yeah? My doc said that it's real common to develop in hands that've been broke a time too many.” Her voice clouded over, it going unsaid between them that her useless husband – Asbo's _father_ – had been the one to break them. _Good fuckin' riddance that bastard got hauled off to prison ages ago_.

“So what d'ya do to treat it, then?” Eggsy had a suspicion niggling at the back of his brain, and if he was right... Harry was in for the fucking bollocking _of his life_. 

“Oh, the doc gave me some pain meds,” In his mind's eye, he saw a large bottle hidden at the back of the cabinet in the loo. “but I don't really like takin' things like that, so mostly I just rub in some o' that cream there when it gets bad.” She pointed at a little white pot with a screw cap, and Eggsy lifted it to read the label. “Got a lot o' things in it, but they've told me the most important thing is the cap... capi...”

“Capsaicin?” He asked, spotting the word in the listed ingredients.

“That's the one. Comes from chili peppers or summat, meant to warm the joints.” She reached forward and Eggsy unscrewed the lid for her, watching as she set down her tea and took a dollop of the cream and rubbed it into her hands. 

“And that works fer you? It makes the pain go away?” 

“It helps.” She replied simply, shrugging a shoulder.

* * *

Harry returned home that evening utterly _exhausted_. 

He _hated_ the paper work that came with the position of _Arthur_ , it seemed like it was bloody _endless_. At least Merlin seemed to be making some progress in his investigation of the members of the Diogenes Club, even if Harry himself currently felt quite useless to the cause. There was the tantalizing scent of Chinese take-away coming from the general direction of the dining table, but aside from the soft glow of a lamp through the entrance way to the living room, the house appeared to be quite still and dark. _Silent_. 

“Eggsy?” He called softly, unease growing as his hand crept toward his shoulder to the comforting weight of his pistol in its holster.

“In here.” The sound of Eggsy's beloved voice instantly eased him, his heart that had begun to race calming itself back down in relief. He finished shucking off his overcoat and oxfords, before turning the corner into the living room with a smile.

“What are you – ” He stopped dead when he actually took in the scene before him, his stomach falling like a stone in trepidation. 

Eggsy was sat in one of the armchairs across from the sofa, leant forward with his elbows upon his knees and his hands clenched together in front of his mouth. His back was clearly tight with tension, and his eyes remained fixed upon the coffee table. Harry turned his gaze in the same direction, freezing all the more when he spotted upon its surface the Kingsman-issued bottle of painkillers that he'd stuffed to the back of the cabinet weeks ago when Eggsy'd still been gone on his last mission. 

“I found this bottle the morning after I came back.” Eggsy's voice was wooden, the lack of emotion in his tone almost painful to hear. Harry forced himself to enter the room, carefully sitting himself on the sofa directly across the table from the younger man. 

“Eggsy – ”

“I told myself that I'd wait, and let you tell me what they was for. I told myself that you _would_ tell me, because we don't keep secrets from each other. Not anymore.” Harry swallowed heavily, shame overtaking him at the hurt he could hear buried in the even tone. “I waited, and I waited, and you never said one fuckin' word about it. You had me thinkin' at one point that you was _dyin'_ , Harry.” 

He jerked forward in his seat, reaching out for Eggsy. He'd _never_ thought that the boy would come to such a conclusion – he'd thought that Eggsy would assume he was having headaches, that letting him believe such would be _harmless_. He very nearly felt like his heart would break when Eggsy sat back, clearly avoiding his touch. 

“You've been in pain, and sufferin' without tellin' me a damn thing, and all this time it was fuckin' _arthritis_.” Eggsy's arms crossed tightly across his chest, his jaw clearly clenched in anger. “ _Why_ , Harry? Why couldn't you trust me with this?” 

“Eggsy, of _course_ I trust you – ”

“That's _not_ what I just fuckin' asked you!” Eggsy's voice lashed out like a whipcord, harsh within the silence of the room. Harry swallowed heavily once again, feeling as though he was on the precipice of his world crumbling around him. 

“I was afraid.” He said simply, knowing that it was far from enough but having difficulty choking out even just _that_ much. Eggsy remained silent, clearly waiting. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in shame. “I was afraid if you knew, you would realize that you've saddled yourself with a fading old man, and that you would leave me.” 

“Think I'm that shallow, do you.” Harry's eyes popped open in surprise, head snapping up. 

“What? _No_ , Eggsy, I would _never_ – ”

“So now you's lyin'? That's what you _just fuckin' said_ , Harry.” 

“It's because you're too _good_!” He yelled in panic. “You deserve so much _more_ than that, to be tied to me like that!” Eggsy shook his head, looking at Harry like he was being daft. 

“Don't, Harry. Don't make this about me, when it _ain't_. This is about _you_ , and bein' unable to accept the fact that there are things you just can't fuckin' control, like _arthritis_.” Harry opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off before he could even begin. “No, _shut up_. For starters, you ain't fuckin' old and arthritis don't mean _shit_ about age – me aunt first started gettin' it when she barely outta her _twenties_ , so you can take that excuse and fuckin' shove it.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward again, lifting a small paper bag from the floor between his feet that Harry had somehow not noticed before. “Are yer hands hurtin' now?”

“Eggsy – ” 

“ _Answer the fuckin' question_.” Harry was taken aback by the tone of fury in Eggsy's voice, the like of which he'd _never_ heard before – their disastrous row before he left for Kentucky included. 

“Yes.” His hands had been throbbing with pain the majority of the afternoon, if he were being perfectly honest. Eggsy upended the paper bag onto the coffee table, a small white jar falling to the surface with a clatter before the younger man unscrewed it and took a generous helping of cream onto his fingers.

“Give 'em here.” He obeyed the command, noting absently that despite how absolutely _infuriated_ Eggsy clearly was, his touch as he rubbed the cream into Harry's joints was delicate and careful. A dull heat began to spread through his skin, easing the spots where pain had been flaring and providing Harry with some relief. As soon as the task was done, Eggsy let go and sat back once more, rubbing his hands on his denims to clean them. 

“I'm going out.” Harry's eyes jerked sharply to Eggsy's face at the proclamation. “I'm so fuckin' pissed with you, Harry, I can't fuckin' _be_ here right now. There's supper on the dining table, fuckin' _eat it_.” He raised to his feet, turning to leave the room.

“Will you be coming back?” Harry's voice was quiet, but somehow still seemed to ring out in the room, the underlying panic in the question obvious to even his own ears. Eggsy came sharply to a halt, turning to Harry with a pinched and hurt expression. 

“That's the fuckin' problem, ain't it – you keep tryin' ta shove me out the door, tryin' ta protect yourself, without ever actually _askin'_ me what it is that _I_ want.” He looked on verge of _tears_ , and Harry very much felt the same. “I'll be back when I've sorted meself out.”

The door slammed, and Harry's hands began to shake.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Please see end author's notes if concerned about triggering content in this chapter. 

Eggsy didn't come home at all that night. 

Harry had picked in a desultory fashion at the take-away that the young man had left for him, knowing that it would only upset him even more if Harry hadn't eaten as instructed, and had waited for the sound of the door opening.

It was to be in vain, as it turned out. 

At the very least, he'd received a message from Merlin assuring him that Eggsy was safe at the Mansion and was apparently making use of his old room there, and had tactfully ignored the Quartermaster's terse “What have you done _this_ time, Harry?”. Perhaps it _said_ something that even his oldest friend knew that it was all somehow Harry's fault, even if he didn't quite know anything _else_ about the situation. 

The silence of the house, broken only by JB's occasional wheeze, left Harry with no other option but to consider Eggsy's anger and his current circumstances.

For after all – once Harry forced aside his worries and injured pride – the boy had been completely _right_. Harry trusted Eggsy implicitly with many things, not the least of which was his very _life_ ; there wasn't any other that he'd rather have watching his back. But oh, he was shamed to realize that he'd failed to trust him totally with his _heart_.

That wasn't a simple thing, for a man like Harry; a man who had grown up in an ofttimes oppressive household, who'd been too afraid for the majority of his life to expose to the world his deepest parts, his very _self_. Harry had learned to wear charming masks to protect what lived within a _very_ long time before ever joining Kingsman – perhaps that was part of the reason he'd been able to fall into the world of espionage with relative ease?

He hadn't even realized that – to a certain degree – he'd continued to wear those masks around Eggsy. And _yes_ , the boy was entirely right... That was hardly fair to him, and no way to conduct a lasting relationship. As little experience as Harry had when it came to these things, even he could recognize _that_ much. 

Harry didn't get one second of sleep that night. 

He arrived at HQ the next morning a full half-hour late, Merlin refraining from disparaging remarks after one look at his expression, the Quartermaster thankfully going straight into business and saving Harry from having to make any explanations.

“Where are we at?” Harry requested, determined to do his duty to Queen and country regardless of the fact that his personal life was in a shambles. Merlin turned toward his screens, information flying about until he settled on grainy photographs of some sort of warehouse. 

“I'm still working on some angles for the club,” Merlin replied, before pointing his tablet pen at the screens. “but the address that young Mr Severs provided us for the meeting place of the lackeys lead to this warehouse; it appears on the surface to be standard-issue fare – CCTV video surveillance, regularly posted guards, shady ins and outs – but it's all a little more _pedestrian_ than our usual nemeses, I'll admit. Should be a walk in the bloody park for Lancelot.” Harry considered the information before him, drawing the same conclusions.

“Send her in.” 

The benefit to – as Merlin termed it – _pedestrian_ operations is that it usually turned out to be quite easy to take them by surprise; for example, they usually assumed that anyone wishing to nose around in their business would choose to do so under the cover of darkness, which meant a heavier guard rotation at night and a more _lax_ one during the day.

No one was expecting a lone girl to slip in at barely half-nine in the morning, which is partially what made it so laughably easy for her to do so. The other part was simply the fact that Roxy had become _Lancelot_ for good bloody reason.

“Those crates on the left wall?”

“Guns and ammunition, Arthur.” 

“Plenty to be going on with,” Merlin observed darkly. “but still not the evidence of human trafficking that we're looking for.” Harry's eyes narrowed as he observed the warehouse through Roxy's glasses feed. 

“Lancelot. Far right corner, behind that stack of lumber.” He waited patiently as she slipped silently over to the area, his heart beginning to speed as she discovered a heavy-looking metal door.

“Down the rabbit hole, shall we?” She murmured to herself, heaving the door open as quietly as possible, revealing a set of stairs that descended into darkness. She initiated the night-vision function of her glasses, allowing her to move about the area without betraying herself by turning on lighting. A quick scan showed the basement to be empty of opponents.

“There are some curtains near the back wall...” She whispered, and his many years of experience in this business had Harry's stomach clenching in dread already. 

“Slowly, Lancelot.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her footsteps as she approached the curtain were utterly silent, her actions the epitome of a professional spy – to be broken only by the sickened gasp that quietly left her upon viewing what the curtain shielded. Harry couldn't fault her for the noise; that was something she would learn to control with experience, unfortunately. 

The view upon Merlin's screens was indeed horrifying, but sadly not a _new_ one for the senior agents. There upon a shabby cot was a young woman – no older than Lancelot herself, more than likely – handcuffed to the cot's frame and completely nude. She appeared to be unconscious, which at the moment Harry was going to count as a blessing.

“Her status, Lancelot.” Harry demanded, noting that his voice had likely startled her from thoughts, given how the view on the screens momentarily jolted. 

“Appears to be unconscious, Sir.” He mentally applauded that her voice was even and did not shake. “She's badly... damaged.” 

“How large is she? Do you think yourself capable of carrying her?” 

“I would guess she's no taller than five feet, five-one at the most.” She murmured musingly, while pulling out a lockpick. “Can't be any more than eight stone. I'd wager my training pack weighed more, I should be able to manage.” 

“Excellent. Get the handcuffs off and bring her back to HQ, she may be able to give us valuable information about the operation, once Medical takes a look at her.” 

“Yes, Sir.” She was already in the process of freeing the young woman, when a thought clearly occurred to her. “They'll know someone was here if she's missing, Sir.” 

“See if you can set the scene to make it appear as though she broke free on her own.” 

“Acknowledged.”

He left Merlin to oversee the extraction, retreating to his office for a badly needed moment's quiet, his mind seeing fit to torture him. Though it'd been true that he wanted the girl brought in for information, he could admit in the privacy of his own thoughts that his true motivation in ordering her release had been much more _personal_ – the fact of the matter was that he'd looked upon the distasteful scene, and had only been able to imagine _Eggsy_ in the young woman's place. He couldn't leave her there... Not with such an image burning at him. 

“Gaius. If I could trouble you to make an appointment; for tomorrow, if you would – we're going to be a bit run-down today.” 

“Of course, Arthur. For Excalibur?”

“No... For myself.”

* * *

Eggsy knew that he shouldn've just stormed out on Harry, but at the time he'd been so fucking afraid that he was going to say something that he'd end up regretting – in his mind's eye, he'd clearly remembered the hurt look on Harry's face as he'd said _you fucking freak_ that disastrous day before Kentucky, and he'd decided to leg it before history had a chance of repeating itself.

No matter how steamed he was at the man, he didn't deserve words meant only to tear and cause pain. 

He hadn't slept a wink the whole bloody night, too worried about whether he'd buggered everything up (even though he _knew_ he was in the right on this), about whether Harry had eaten anything like he'd asked. Whether Harry had been sitting there with his hands in pain, too fucking stubborn to do anything about it. 

He'd tossed about his bed at HQ late into the morning, telling himself childishly that it was because he fancied a lie-in and not at all because he was avoiding running into Harry. When that excuse had stopped working even on himself, he decided to try an burn some of his anger and hurt off with some good old-fashioned physical exertion. 

He shucked his henley shirt – the brown one that he'd put Harry in on their anniversary, that still held faint traces of that _sandalwood amber warmth_ scent – upon his arrival at the Kingsman gym, choosing to stick to shirtless and his low-slung trackies for his workout. He went at the sandbags like a madman, hardly even noticing the comings and goings of other agents in the room, nor was he paying much attention to the strain he was putting on himself – it wasn't until he felt a sharp pain in his back that he recognized as a potentially torn stitch that he realized he might've slightly overdone it. 

Looked like a trip to Medical was in order, fucking _damn it_. 

He threw the shirt back on hastily, knowing that the air in the corridors would be too cool once his body calmed, and heaved a sigh as he began walking. He had a brief thought of worry, of what he should say if he somehow happened to run into Harry on the way, before chiding himself for being stupid. Harry was probably up in his office dealing with the world's problems, why the fuck would he be anywhere near Medical?

Sometimes, Eggsy really hated it when he was right about things. 

Upon reaching his destination, the first indication he got that something was off was the very faint sound of shouting from one of the exam rooms; he was prepared to brush it off as Elyan being his usual overly-dramatic self, until he came to the realization that it sounded like a _woman_ shouting. Sudden worry for Roxy had him sprinting to the room, throwing open the door without any concern to patient privacy. 

Everything seemed to go quiet with his intrusion, a momentary calm to the storm that he'd apparently burst into. 

Eggsy's eyes flicked quickly about the room, taking stock of the situation – Morgana, one of the lead doctors, was pressed back against the far wall with large eyes, looking entirely out of her element. Harry, Merlin and Roxy were off to one side of the room, all three tensed and wary looking while Roxy sported some impressive scratches on one side of her neck, Eggsy's less-than stellar childhood experience telling him that they were likely caused by fingernails. 

The wariness on their faces was apparently justified, as upon the gurney bed was the figure of a young woman, totally starkers and huddled in on herself, pointing a Kingsman pistol at anyone who dared even twitch. _Must've somehow grabbed it off of Rox, hence the scratches_. Eggsy was actually pretty impressed that she'd managed it, if he were being honest.

He held himself still as he took a closer look at the mysterious girl, noting with a low twist of anger the familiar bruises upon her tan skin, the _blood_. All things he recognized, all things he _remembered_. 

He took a slow step into the room, raising his hands to shoulder height when the business-end of the pistol twitched his way with shaking hands. It was clear that the girl was terrified out of her fucking mind, but Eggsy could respect the spark that she had in her bright green eyes – as sharp and as cutting as the bottle glass that the colour reminded him of. _Could slice through a man's soul with eyes like that_.

He took a couple more shuffling movements into the room, taking note of the fact that she seemed hesitant to shoot. Her black hair was a twisted knot on top of her head, likely put that way by whoever had held her before she was brought in, in order to keep it out of the way. She was lucky they hadn't just shaved it off. She was obviously in need of a good bath and some medical treatment, but Eggsy knew she wasn't going to be likely to let anybody near.

He kept his eyes locked on hers as he slowly reached back over his shoulders, grasping the henley shirt and drawing it up over his head, folding it neatly and leaving it on the floor before backing away a few steps, leaving her room to move. He could sense the others watching this odd silent display in curiosity, but right at that moment Eggsy couldn't be arsed to care about the others. Her eyes darted between him and the shirt a few times, checking the others, and then returning to him. 

She cautiously unfolded herself, sliding carefully from the bed while keeping the pistol raised to prevent any of them from moving, snatching the shirt from the ground quickly before retreating back to the bed. She manoeuvred the shirt on to her own small frame without once lowering the pistol, switching hands as needed, the dark fabric falling to hide her nakedness from the room. 

Eggsy held himself still as her gaze turned curious and assessing, obviously taking in the various marks on his now-bare torso before her eyes came to rest upon the thick scars at his wrists. He could see matching rings of bruising and blood around her own, though certainly less deep than his had been. 

“You're like me.” Her voice was husky with an odd accent, throat obviously irritated by screaming and Eggsy made a mental note to fetch some honey and lemon from the kitchens to fix it later. 

“Yes.” He could see the moment that she drew the wrong conclusion, her face twisting in rage as the pistol began to swing back Harry's way. Eggsy moved quickly, planting himself firmly between Harry and the gun. “No. They're _good_.”

“They _use_ you!” She snarled.

“They got me _out_.” He replied firmly. “Just like _you_.” He could see she was thinking on his words, but the gun still wasn't lowering. 

“I don't like men in suits.” There was a waver to her voice.

“I understand.” And he _did_. He'd learned to be wary of men that dressed like Harry just the same, even when he was willingly going out and _looking_ for it, in order to get Dean the money he demanded. “But you can trust these ones.” She wasn't convinced, and they both knew it. Making a decision, Eggsy clenched his jaw. “This man behind me could kill a person in about a hundred different ways with his fucking hands _alone_.”

“That a threat?”

“It's an explanation, so you fully understand what comes next. Harry.” There was the slightest of pauses as the older man worked out what Eggsy was asking for, before his hands settled lightly around Eggsy's throat, thumbs sweeping up the back of his neck in a caress even as fingers wrapped around his windpipe. The girl's eyes widened a bit, the pistol dipping down just the tiniest amount. He looked her square in the eye, forcing down the instinctual little flickers of panic at the feeling of hands gripped around his throat. 

“He could kill me, with the smallest fucking flick of his wrist right now. But there ain't a single part o' me afraid o' him, I trust that he'd never do it. I _know_ what you're thinkin' right now, and I'm _tellin'_ ya that you ain't gotta be scared o' these people.” They stared at each other, evaluating – her jaw clenched, obviously having made a choice of her own. Harry's hands slid away from his neck, brushing lightly over his shoulders before letting him go completely. 

“I want a shower.” She said, body language still twitchy and nervous. 

“There's one in the little room off to your right.” 

“I don't want... _her_ touching me.” She said, eyes flicking momentarily in Morgana's direction.

“Nobody's gonna touch you if you say 'no'.” Eggsy assured her, some of the tenseness leaking out of his frame. “You got stuff that needs to be treated though, yeah?” 

“You. You can do it.” 

“I _must_ protest, he's not a – ” Morgana spoke up, but Eggsy was quick to cut her off as the girl's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I know what I'm about, I done it all before.” His voice was firm, promising hell to pay if she didn't let it go right then and fucking _there_. 

“Given that Excalibur has... experience... with injuries of this nature, I'm sure we can make an exception.” Harry interjected quietly, Morgana reluctantly nodding in agreement to the obvious order, no matter how politely-worded it had been. 

The girl lowered the pistol completely, holding it out. Eggsy came forward cautiously, taking the weapon and passing it back to Roxy without taking his eyes off the girl – at the closer range, he could see clearly the signs of exhaustion and mental strain that were pulling at her, and he knew from his own past experience that it was likely to overtake her the moment she relaxed even slightly and the adrenaline fell away.

“Let's start with some washin' up, yeah?” He asked quietly, seeing that a tremble had begun to run across her small frame. “Would it be alright if I come in with ya? Thinkin' you're likely to hit the floor any moment and I don't much fancy a concussion gettin' added on top of everythin' else.” She looked at him consideringly, both of them ignoring the choked noise of protest that Morgana made at that. _Fuck Morgana, she don't know what it's like_.

“...alright.” 

“When you're ready, perhaps come find us in my sitting rooms?” Eggsy glanced back at Harry, nodding once in acknowledgement. Their personal problems were going to have to be pushed to the side for the moment, clearly. 

“Gonna pick you up, yeah?” He kept his voice still quiet and even, waiting until she nodded her head tiredly in permission before he dipped low to swoop her up into his arms. _Christ, she's fuckin' tiny_. “What's your name, love?” Eggsy began moving toward the attached bath, being careful not to jostle her too much, as she was in obvious pain.

“Mina. My name's Mina.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Some discussion of Mina's situation, but a lot of it is pretty vague.

Harry looked up as Gaius entered the room, the soft _swish_ of the door breaking the oppressive silence that had fallen between the three of them, Merlin and Roxy evidently at just as much a loss for words as Harry himself. 

“I thought we weren't meeting until tomorrow, Arthur?” The older man asked, curiosity laced within the slow drawl of his tone. Harry cleared his throat before answering, afraid that his voice would only come out as a croak.

“Yes, this is case-related, I'm afraid.” He relayed the morning's rather fraught circumstances as clinically as possible, Gaius making noises of acknowledgement every so often. Once he'd reached the end, explaining that Eggsy had been left behind to care for the young woman, Roxy spoke up.

“I don't understand,” She murmured, brow pulled into a concentrated frown. “she doesn't _know_ Eggsy at all... Why would she prefer him over a female doctor?” 

“I'm sure I don't have to tell you that reactions to this kind of trauma obviously vary to the individual,” Gaius replied, leaning back in his armchair thoughtfully. “but my best guess without having spoken to the girl personally would be that she feels _safe_ with him, due to shared experiences – from what you've told me, he approached her in a manner that made clear that they were _equals_ , in a sense, an element that our Morgana would simply be incapable of replicating.”

“How so?” 

“Try to look at it from her perspective, if you will; she awakes in a new environment, surrounded by strange people, all of which are clean and expensively dressed – to the subconscious mind, this alone immediately places her on a different level from the rest. Now, think: what was Eggsy wearing?”

“...Trackies and an old shirt.” Roxy replied, and Harry could see where Gaius was going with it. 

“She would have unconsciously begun aligning herself with him for that alone, because it made him _different_ from the rest of you. After she grabbed Lancelot's pistol, what was your first instinctual reaction?”

“To talk her down and try to retrieve the weapon.” Merlin answered, and Gaius pointed a finger at him.

“Standard procedure, yes? Now... What was Eggsy's first reaction upon taking stock of the situation?”

“...He gave her his shirt to wear.” Roxy's tone was filled with surprised realization. “He didn't even _try_ talking to her until after she'd covered herself.” 

“There again, a gesture that would cause her to gravitate more to _him_ than to any of you. As I said, his every word and action made clear that he _understood_ , that they were _equals_. I would say – and again, I can only presume without having spoken to her myself – that his understanding and commiseration would be _infinitely_ more comforting to her than his gender. In a sense, I believe that she more than likely doesn't even see him as a _man_ at the moment, but merely as a _safe harbour_ of sorts in a new and quite likely frightening place.” 

The old man's reasoning was certainly sound, and upon mentally reviewing the morning's events Harry thought that he was more than likely correct in his assumptions. The girl had been more than willing to shoot the lot of them if they'd so much as twitched in her direction, but he'd seen the way she'd hesitated over Eggsy. It'd been clear from the second he'd thrown open the door that there was something about him that called out to her. 

“I suppose that makes sense,” Roxy sighed. “Can't help but wonder how the washing-up is going, though. I mean, she didn't even look capable of _standing_ on her own, I don't know how she's going to manage a shower.” Gaius looked at her in confusion.

“Did you not tell me that he asked for permission to go in with her?”

“Well... yes. But why would him simply being in the room – _oh my god_ , he's _**in**_ the shower with her.” 

Harry choked on the sip of tea he'd just taken.

* * *

Eggsy put away the last of the medical supplies that he'd been using, feeling better that the girl – _Mina_ – had finally been cleaned and treated, even if it was only as much as he personally knew how to do. 

“There we are, eh?” He said, mostly just to break the silence. The chill of the room was beginning to get to him, and he glanced longingly at his dry trackies and shirt that had been left on the end of the gurney bed. He'd gotten Mina swathed in warm towels, and hoped that Asbo hurried his arse up and brought the things he'd asked for when he'd texted earlier. Noticing that she was looking at him assessingly, he raised a brow in question. 

“You look like someone I know...” Her eyes narrowed a bit in thought, and Eggsy couldn't help the small smile that pulled to his lips.

“Sexy fireman with a magnificent arse?” He counted her startled laughter a victory, despite the fact that it was short-lived. 

“I'm gonna assume you're related somehow, which makes that a bit...” 

“We're always gettin' told we look identical, which I suppose means it's more _narcissism_ than anythin'.” He said with a cheeky wink, enjoying her slight smile before it slowly faded. 

“Don't think I would've been able to shoot you... Not when you look like _him_.” He could feel the mood in the room turning heavy and oppressive, and grabbed the statement for the lifeline that it was. There would be time enough for the bad things when they met with the others.

“How'd you know the difference? Most people don't, not right away.” 

“You don't have the mark on your neck,” She explained quietly. “I knew for sure when you took off the shirt – no tattoos.” 

“Oh, _tattoos_ , plural. That mean you've seen the dragon on Denny's arse then? Do I need to be defendin' me cousin's honour or summat?” She chuckled quietly.

“Pretty sure he can defend himself just fine. But that aside, no – I'm ace and aro. I have nothing but platonic love for your cousin, which he knows very well.” Eggsy nodded his head while he grabbed an extra towel to wrap over his soggy pants, before sitting on the edge of the gurney bed with her. 

“Wonderin' even _more_ how you've seen me cousin's arse, now.” She gave him a slight smile again, but just as the first time, it didn't last very long.

“You're trying to distract me.” 

“Is it workin'?”

“No, but... don't stop.” Eggsy nodded his head, turning one hand palm-up on the bed between them in offer. There was a moment's hesitation, before her hand slipped into his and he threaded their fingers together tightly. 

“I don't really like bein' touched,” He began, feeling her start to let go and squeezing tighter to show that it was fine. She settled and left their hands entwined. “I was... really young, when it happened to me. Don't know if I woulda been... _normal_ or whatever otherwise, but I learned a long time ago that there ain't no use in wishin' for what might've been, yeah? Harry – the tall gent, from before – he got me out, gave me a chance to get meself a _real_ life. I been workin' the best I can to deal with things and... and get _better_.” 

“Have you? Gotten better?” Her voice was hollow, eyes filled with shadows that Eggsy knew all too well. 

“Yeah.” He looked her in the eye, wanting her to see that he spoke the truth. “It ain't all sunshine and fuckin' rainbows, but you gotta believe me that it _does_ get better. We got people here that you can talk to, _good_ people – and I know that it ain't gonna be a treat to open up about it with some _stranger_ , but... It's somethin' you gotta do, love. Believe me, I _know_.” Her eyes turned glassy while she visibly fought tears. 

“They're gonna want to look at me, aren't they.” Eggsy nodded sympathetically.

“Yeah. They's gonna want to run some blood tests, all that. Just to make sure you're... healthy.” She swallowed heavily. 

“Will you...” She glanced away, rubbing her free hand over her face in frustration. “God, I feel like a fucking _child_...” He squeezed around her fingers gently. 

“I can do this, if you need it. I can be there beside ya the whole fuckin' time, if you want. There ain't no shame in askin' for summat that you _need_.” Her eyes returned to his, something a bit like _hope_ within them. 

“I... yeah. _Please_.” 

“O' course.” He cleared his throat, wanting to steer them back to happier footing. “Denny said you's from Canada. Always sort o' thought that Canadians and Americans would sound the same... dunno why.” She gave a watery chuckle. 

“Don't worry yourself about it, my accent's odd even for a Canadian.” 

“That right?”

“My mother was a Turkish immigrant, my father was from Newfoundland, and I was born in northern Ontario where they speak just as much French as English. My talking's _fucked_ , to say the least.” 

“Glad it's not just me then.” She laughed out loud at that, and Eggsy could feel something tight in his chest ease a bit. “So how'd you end up on the Churchill Estates then, if ya don't mind me askin'?” Her smile dimmed a bit, but thankfully didn't disappear completely. 

“Nothing left for me over there, really. Got this grand idea in my head that I'd come over and try a new place... ran out of money and sort of got stuck here.” Her smile brightened suddenly, and Eggsy could feel himself smile with her. “I was staying in a hostel near Mile End, when one of the other residents set the fucking stove on fire. Course, they called it in and so these firefighters show up, the whole crew of them – I mean, the fire itself didn't even really need more than one person but, whatever.”

“I'm guessin' this is how you met Denny.” 

“You guess right. He was... there was this old woman that ran the hostel, right. And she was all in a tizz because of the excitement, and he'd pulled off his helmet and was kneeling down to talk to her, calm her down. It was sweet. Afterwards he went around to every person to ask after them, see if they were alright.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him.” 

“I was the last one he talked to, and I guess one of the other firefighters thought something of it; they started cat-calling him, teasing him I guess. He told them to fuck off, and then sort of tripped over himself to explain that he hadn't been trying to hit on me, he just wanted to make sure everyone was alright.”

“I can actually easily picture that, if I'm bein' honest.” 

“I told him that it was okay, and not that he wasn't _pretty_ and all, but that I don't have an interest in dating people anyways, to which his response was 'Oh thank god'. We've been great friends ever since – he even got me into an apartment at the Estates when I couldn't stay at the hostel anymore. Don't know _how_ he managed that, actually.” 

“Through the magic of bein' me.” They both looked up as the voice sounded from the doorway, Eggsy noticing his cousin's shoulders drop in relief at finally setting eyes on his friend. Asbo had a plastic Tesco bag dangling from the fingertips of one hand, clearly stuffed with the things that Eggsy had asked for.

“About fuckin' _time_ , mate.” 

“Piss off. You know what I had to go through to convince the old bloke at the shop that I was _supposed_ to be comin' here?” 

“You ain't the one that's been sittin' around in soakin' wet pants for fuckin' _ever_ , now are ya.” Asbo came further into the room, digging into the bag and pulling out some fabric. 

“Grabbed some things from home, here.” Without further ado, he lobbed the fabric straight at Eggsy's face. 

“Are these _your_ pants?”

“They're fuckin' _clean_ , you absolute princess.” The sound of sudden watery laughter drew both their attention, quickly dissolving into just plain sobs. Eggsy'd been waiting for the breakdown since they'd first headed for the shower to get her cleaned up, but he could tell that the sight of the small woman weeping into her free hand was unnerving his cousin. Letting go of the fingers that he'd still been holding, Eggsy stood and allowed Dennis to tentatively take his place. 

He moved off to the side to put on the dry pants and get back into his clothes, keeping an eye on the other two. Dennis was still and silent beside her, letting her cry it out while he kept both hands on the plastic bag between his knees. He didn't speak up until the crying turned to ragged breathing.

“Brought ya some things.” He mumbled, and Eggsy could feel the corner of his mouth turn up a bit. His cousin could be so _delightfully_ awkward, sometimes. Hearing a wet-sounding sniffle, Eggsy passed over a box of tissues, but let the two of them be otherwise. “Er... couldn't really stop them from takin' the flat back, 'cos you'd been gone for so long... but I got in and grabbed your clothes before they could end up gone.” He pulled a black pair of those stretchy legging things out of the bag, as well as a pair of panties and a bra. “Um... brought some underthings too. Sorry.” 

“Only _you_ would apologize for going through my underwear when it was for the purpose of bringing them _to_ me.” Mina sniffled a bit more, but was clearly trying to force her emotions back under control – Eggsy felt nothing but admiration for the strength she was showing. Finally, Asbo pulled a wad of dark navy fabric from the bag, Eggsy able to see it was the plain cotton jumper emblazoned with the Fire House's insignia that they usually wore as part of their uniform during the winter months.

“Thought you might want somethin'... warm. Couldn't find much in your stuff, hope this is alright.” 

“Thanks.” He lifted a hand as though to touch her shoulder, stopping himself quickly and curling his fingers into his palm instead. Pushing up from the bed, he gave Eggsy a nod. 

“Just make meself scarce while you get her dressed, yeah?” 

“Thanks, mate. Nab one o' the nurses outside and tell 'em that you need someone to take you to Arthur's sittin' rooms.” Dennis left the room quietly, sending one last glance Mina's way before closing the door behind him. “Shall I?” Mina nodded her head tiredly, and Eggsy made a mental note to try and keep their meeting with the others as short as possible – she needed rest. 

He wasted no time in manoeuvring her out of the towels and into the clothing that Dennis had brought, wincing in sympathy every time a movement pulled at her injuries the wrong way. She was still in very poor shape, but had refused any kind of painkillers; Eggsy couldn't blame her – as much trust as she was giving him, even he wouldn't expect her to willingly accept unknown drugs from a relative stranger. He found a hair brush in the bag that Dennis had left behind, and set to work on easing the tangles out of her hair; it wasn't any different than doing Daisy's in the mornings that they had her, after all. 

“Think me mum would kill to have hair this long.” He'd been surprised in the shower, when he'd pulled her hair down from the knot it'd been put into on the top of her head in order to wash it; her dark hair fell in loose curls all the way down to her hips, and he thought for the second time that she was lucky her captors hadn't just shaved it off. Would've been a shame, that. 

“Took me nearly ten years to get it that way.” Eggsy huffed a laugh, knowing that his mum didn't have that kind of patience. Rifling through the bag once more, he silently thanked his cousin for having the presence of mind to pack a hair tie as well. As he began to part her hair for a plait, he noticed from the corner of his eye as she raised the long sleeves of the jumper up to her mouth and nose. 

“What's it smell like?” She blinked up at him, quickly dropping her arms back down. “After... _everythin'_ , I got real focused on the way things _smelled_. Apparently that's normal, so they been tellin' me. There was one scent specifically that sort of came to mean... _safety_ , or comfort or somethin'. I dunno. But anytime I smelled somethin' like it, it made me feel better. Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of, and you don't have ta tell me. Was just wonderin'.” There was a short pause before she raised the sleeves back up to her nose, eyes closing as she concentrated.

“Smoke.”

“Go figure, for a fireman.” 

“No, like... his cigarettes. And a bit like sweat. Cloves, too.”

“...That sounds disgustin', if I'm bein' honest.” She laughed lightly.

“I don't mind it.” Her eyes opened again as he finished off the plait. “He's been a good friend to me.” Eggsy came around, crouching down in front of her and taking her hands when she held them out. 

“He'll keep bein' a good friend, if you let him. Tell him what ya need, and he'll see it happen, yeah? He had plenty o' years of practice with me, when it came to this sort of thing.” Mina breathed deeply, obviously fighting off another round of tears. 

“Okay.”

* * *

Harry could feel himself growing unaccountably anxious as the time passed with still no sign of Eggsy and the girl. 

There were any number of ways that the situation could have deteriorated once they'd left, but Harry stood by his decision to let Eggsy handle it – clearly, the boy was far more adept at it than they'd accounted for. The quiet atmosphere of the room was broken as a hesitant knock came at the door. 

“Enter.” He couldn't claim to be surprised at the appearance of Asbo, as Dagonet had informed Merlin the moment he'd let the young man onto the bullet train, but he could admit to some confusion as to why he was appearing alone. 

“Er... Eggsy's just gettin' her dressed. Said to come here.” 

“Of course.” Harry waved a hand in the direction of the settee. “Please join us.” The young man settled himself, seeming to do a bit of a double-take when he got a look at the bandage on the side of Roxy's neck.

“The fuck happened to you?” 

“Your Mina did.” She returned dryly, and he blinked in surprise.

“That's my fuckin' girl!” He laughed quietly, only to fall into a scowl at Roxy's raised brow. “Ain't like that, piss off.” Roxy chuckled, before raising a hand to the bandage. 

“She was unconscious when I found her. I was just carrying her into the exam room to have them check her over, when I guess she wasn't _quite_ as out of it as we'd thought. She attacked and grabbed my pistol before we really had a chance to react.” 

“Hardly surprising,” Gaius cut in musingly. “given that she had no way of knowing whether you were friend or foe – when placed under extreme trauma, the body is most likely to react on base instinct before giving the brain a chance to process.”

“ _Fight or flight_ , innit?” 

“Quite right, my boy.” 

“Asbo, this is Gaius. He's the head of our Psychiatric team; I've asked him in today to see to Mina.” Asbo looked the older gentleman over critically.

“You're gonna fix her, like you done for Eggsy?”

“Eggsy has worked to better _himself_ – I cannot 'fix' what isn't _broken_. My purpose is to support and provide insight, when necessary.” 

“Right.” They sat in some silence before door swished open once again, Mina having obviously been the one to turn the handle, as Eggsy seemed to have his arms full. They paused, taking stock of the room, and Eggsy bent his head in order to murmur something to her in an undertone. She nodded her head, and he carried her forward toward the settee. 

The young lady was looking much better than when he'd seen her last; what little Harry could see of her skin was clean, despite still marred by bruising and bandages, and she was ensconced in a cozy-looking jumper that appeared to be about five sizes too big for her, the fire emblem upon it indicating who it truly belonged to easily. Her dark hair was in a long, tidy plait that hung over her shoulder. She would make a very fetching sight, had it been different circumstances, and Harry momentarily pitied her for the ordeal she'd been through. He made sure to mask the feeling, as he knew from experience with Eggsy that pity would _never_ be welcomed. 

As they reached the settee, Eggsy turned himself slightly to the side, settling them down so that her back rested against his chest, whilst her legs stretched out across Asbo's lap – Harry didn't miss the young woman's wince of pain, nor the acknowledging nod that the two boys shared. 

“We's gonna keep this short and to the point, lads and ladies.” Eggsy said firmly, eyeing them all with a challenging look. “She needs rest.” 

“Of course.” Harry deferred, knowing that they could always get additional information from her at a later time, so long as they began with what was pertinent. 

“First, I got a question of my own.” Harry blinked in surprise, but gestured for Mina to go ahead. 

“Who the hell _are_ you people?!”


	12. Chapter 12

Asbo let out a snort, Mina flinching slightly at the abrupt sound before he carefully rubbed a thumb over her bare ankle to soothe her. Eggsy could feel it against his chest when she deliberately forced her tight shoulders to loosen.

“So much for your super-secret spy club, eh guv?” His cousin drawled, even as he eyed Harry guardedly. Though to anyone else Harry's face would have looked blandly pleasant, Eggsy knew him well enough to see the rueful pull of dark humour in the corners of his eyes.

“...'Highest level of discretion' my lily white arse.” He muttered, relaxing back into the cushions behind him further and propping his feet up on the low table purely to see the three older men in the room wince. “One o' the first things that wanker ever did in front o' me was to beat the ever-living _piss_ outta Dean's lackeys like it was fuckin' _ballet_ , before amnesia-darting the bartender. Yeah, real fuckin' subtle.” 

The part of Eggsy that was still _supremely fucking pissed off_ with Harry reveled in the way he stilled carefully as Merlin's irate gaze slowly turned in his direction. 

“ _You bloody well did **what**?!_ ” The Scotsman gritted out between clenched teeth, obviously being mindful of the loudness of his voice for Mina's benefit. Eggsy almost laughed – _almost_ – when Harry merely blinked in faux-innocence. 

“Didn't you know? I _did_ have my glasses on, after all.” Merlin scowled all the more.

“You weren't on an active mission, of _course_ I wasna watching what you were getting up to! You were just supposed to be fetching the lad from the police station, after all – excuse me for thinking you could manage that without dramatics!” Harry _tsk_ ed at that.

“I wouldn't call it _dramatics_...” 

“No, I'd call it _peacocking_.” The Quartermaster returned ruthlessly, and Eggsy raised a brow in interest when he noticed a very subtle pinking of the tips of Harry's ears, his only real giveaway to when he was embarrassed by something. “Showing off for the pretty boy, were you?” Eggsy blinked, a bit startled by _that_ revelation, when Dennis spoke up.

“As fuckin' _fascinatin'_ as this all is,” He grumbled, tone indicating that he actually thought the complete opposite. “can we get back on fuckin' point, here?” 

“That'd certainly be _my_ preference.” Mina's quiet statement made Eggsy feel a bit guilty, knowing that he'd been part of the reason that she'd been sitting there for so long with her question still unanswered. He mentally gave himself a firm talking-to over it – after all, it wasn't fair to leave the poor girl confused and in the dark just because he was still a bit bitter and wanted to needle Harry. _You said you was gonna set it aside for now, so fuckin' **do** it, mate._

“Sorry, love.” He murmured lowly, knowing she was close enough to him to pick it up. He felt a light swipe of a fingertip over his rib from where her arms had been crossed tightly over her own chest, her fingers tucked close between her side and Eggsy's torso. He decided that was probably her way of saying he was forgiven. 

The movement, small and hidden as it was, had obviously not escaped Gaius' keen gaze, however. He could pick up a look of almost... _satisfaction_ on the old man's weathered face, and after more than a year of seeing the man himself, Eggsy knew why he was so pleased – the fact that she was feeling comfortable enough to touch him in even such a small way was a very good sign for her ability to recover from her trauma. He doubted that Gaius had missed her allowing Asbo to rub over her ankle earlier either, now that he thought about it. 

“Beg pardon.” Harry's smooth voice jerked Eggsy out of his contemplation, reminding him that there was still a task at hand. 

“Dennis said 'spy club',” She mused, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “so you guys are, what? MI6?” She turned to look at his cousin, frowning a bit. “That's what you guys have over here, right? MI6?”

“Somethin' like that.” Asbo drawled, obviously amused despite himself when the mention of the organization caused all other occupants of the room to scowl. _Fuckin' government wankers, always gettin' in the bloody way_. “Does Canada even _have_ a secret service? Or is you all too nice to need it?” Mina dug her bare toes into his thigh, giving a reluctant huff of a laugh.

“We have [CSIS](https://www.csis.gc.ca/index-en.php), yeah.”

“We are _not_ MI6,” Harry replied. “though the concept is not very far off. You could consider us a... _private_ Secret Service, if you wish. We operate outside the bounds of government-imposed limitations, though we still seek to act for the greater good of Queen, Country, and humanity at large.” Mina nodded her head, obviously deciding to take Harry's assurances at face-value. Eggsy hazarded a guess that Dennis' involvement with them was the only reason she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt in the first place. 

“So why am I here, then?”

“We've been investigating a series of kidnappings, which we suspect to be tied to an apparent human trafficking ring; our agent, Lancelot,” Here Harry gestured at Roxy, who dipped her head in a small nod of acknowledgement. “was dispatched to the warehouse we found you in this morning as part of that investigation. We were merely there searching for some evidence to help us in our proceedings, when she... found you.” 

Eggsy felt the tremor that ran through the girl's small body at that, watching curiously as Dennis pressed a thumb into the instep of one of her bare feet – not rubbing in any way, just giving _pressure_ , and the tension that had crept into Mina's shoulders slowly leaked away. She jerked her chin in Roxy's direction, eyes guarded.

“...'m not apologizing for that.” Roxy raised a hand to the bandage on her neck, as the corner of her mouth curled.

“I wasn't expecting one. You can hardly be blamed for attempting to defend yourself in an uncertain situation.” The women shared a glance, obviously having reached some kind of understanding, before Mina turned to look at Asbo. 

“And you? How'd you get wrapped up into this? Last I knew, you were just a fireman.”

* * *

Harry watched in some amusement as the young man in question let go of the girl's foot, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest and looking surly, but distinctly uncomfortable. 

Perhaps he was getting better at reading the boy's face. 

“...s'not much to tell. Eggsy sent me a message, askin' me if I'd heard anythin' about people disappearin'. Was a while after you'd already... well. Told him I'd do some askin' around. Found out some things, passed 'em along. Met this lot by accident.” He shrugged, gaze fixed resolutely on the small feet in his lap, rather than looking around at any of the rest of them. Harry rather thought the young man was selling himself short. 

“Young Mr Severs has proved himself quite integral to our investigation.” He spoke, mildly surprised when Asbo's gaze snapped up to give him a hard and rather unreadable stare – perhaps he _wasn't_ getting the hang of the boy's expressions, after all. “Indeed, we'd been hitting quite a few roadblocks, and it was Asbo who provided us with the location of the warehouse in which we found you.” The young lady once again seemed to dig her toes lightly into the boy's thigh, bringing his attention back around to her. The two of them shared a look that was somewhat difficult to parse, but Harry got the distinct impression that they understood each other well enough.

“Do you feel that you are capable of answering a few questions?” Harry asked after a moment. “If you would prefer to rest first, we will of course be willing to accommodate.” Though time was certainly of the essence, Harry was not willing to push her past her limits with all that she'd so recently suffered. He waited patiently while she appeared to give it serious contemplation, a small frown finding its way between her dark brows. 

“I can talk a bit.” She finally replied, looking grimly determined; it was the same kind of expression that he'd seen on Eggsy's face many a time when the boy was forcing himself to push through and do what was necessary. Harry hesitated, feeling the fleeting urge to overrule her and reschedule regardless, but pushed the feeling down. This was not a decision that he could make on her behalf – he had no right to.

“As you wish.” He replied instead. “Asbo has been able to give us fairly good descriptions of your abductors already, and I assure you they will be dealt with.” He couldn't quite keep the angered growl from his tone on the last two words, noticing a similar spark of fire ignite in Eggsy's eyes. Taking a calming breath, he started again. “What we are interested in is any information about their operation that you may be able to give us – anything at all, no matter how inconsequential it may seem at first glance. Particularly anything that could lead us to the man in charge.” 

At his words – _the man in charge_ – a violent tremor wracked her small frame, her tawny complexion paling slightly in apparent fear. As they watched, Eggsy's arms snapped tightly around her torso just as Asbo wrapped firm hands around the calves of her legs; Harry feared for a moment that the constriction would only frighten her further, but to his surprise she seemed to find some form of comfort in their tight holds, her small hands rising to grip at the sleeves covering Eggsy's forearms. 

“I... I've seen him.” Her voice wavered. Merlin leaned forward in his seat slightly, looking intent. 

“If I could provide some photographs, would you be able to identify him for us?” She nodded her head, breathing in shakily as one of her hands reached down to twist her fingers into the sleeve of Asbo's track jacket as well. Harry raised a brow at Merlin, hearing an undercurrent to his request. “One of those leads I was working on for the Club.” He said in explanation, even as he began hurriedly typing on his tablet-clipboard. 

Harry could feel himself relaxing slightly, recognizing the spark of mania in the Quartermaster's expression that usually meant they were only moments away from some sort of breakthrough. Indeed, in the short minutes it took Harry to ring for some tea for them all, Merlin was letting out a satisfied _aha!_ before passing the clipboard to Harry for his perusal.

Upon the screen was a missive from someone who was only identified as 'M.H.', which read “ _I would greatly appreciate your fine establishment's assistance in this matter, as I fear I do not have the luxury of time to be able to handle it personally_.”, followed by attachments of images, which Harry quickly determined to be photographs of the unknown members of the elusive Diogenes Club – complete with names to identify them. 

“Dare I ask?” His tone was rueful, knowing that sometimes it was best to leave Merlin to his mysterious ways and merely enjoy the fruits of his labour instead. The Scotsman shrugged evenly, but said nothing. Harry pressed himself up from his seat, drawing closer to the settee with the intention of handing over the tablet to the young lady so that she might look through the images. He drew to a sharp and somewhat awkward halt, however, when his sudden movement caused her to shrink further back into the holds of the two young men with a flinch in an unconscious effort to escape his approach. 

Harry firmly told himself not to take it personally – of _course_ she would still be uncertain around him, given her recent trauma – and made sure to move slowly when Eggsy held out a hand for the tablet instead. He retook his seat, seeing Mina relax at the increased space between them – a reaction that had not gone unnoticed by Gaius, if the sympathetic twist to his lips was any indication. They would certainly have much to discuss, if they proved successful in convincing her to see the old man for some therapy. 

They all waited with bated breath while Eggsy assisted her in scrolling through each image, since it was obvious that what little energy she had found was dwindling quickly. Though outwardly he worked to keep his expression its usual pleasantly blank mask, internally Harry could admit he was attempting to tamp down his rising hope. Could they be so lucky, for once? 

Could it be _that kind of movie_?

* * *

Eggsy scrolled through each photo slowly, giving Mina time to carefully observe each one before ultimately dismissing it. He could admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that he was fighting against rising hope. If this could pan out for them – if it could really be so easy as for her to pick him out for them, right then and there with a name and all – they might be able to wrap this whole bloody business up all the faster, before anyone else could get hurt. 

He paid close attention to her reactions as each face appeared on the screen, knowing that it would be pretty fucking obvious when they hit the right one, and it _was_. He stilled his motions as he heard her quietly in-drawn breath, her legs drawing up a little bit defensively even as Dennis tightened his grip on her in concern. Eggsy looked down at the photo on the screen, seeing a bored-looking posh twat like all the others, but knowing instinctively that _this_ was their man. 

Adam DeKant looked _nothing_ like Harry – he was at _least_ a decade younger than the Kingsman figurehead, for starters – but Eggsy could objectively see why Mina seemed subconsciously wary of letting Harry close all the same. If the photo in front of him was any indication, they both dressed expensively, they both had brown eyes and hair, and they both seemed to leak that aura of disinterested superiority that seemed to come natural to the upper-class. Eggsy knew Harry well enough to know that in _his_ case, at least, that superiority was all a front – a mask that he slipped on as easy as breathing, but not true to the man beneath it. 

Mina wouldn't know that, though. 

Eggsy decided that he was gonna have to work overtime to get her to be able to realize that, to be able to see Harry for the good man that he actually was, and maybe then she wouldn't be so afraid of him by proxy because of this arsehole. 

Because as much as Eggsy was still frustrated as _all fucking hell_ with the man, that was one inexorable truth that he'd never be able to let go – that at the heart of it all, Harry was fundamentally _good_. 

“Think we got a winner, boys and girls.” He murmured, when it looked like Mina was too paralyzed to actually make a noise herself. Eggsy couldn't blame her, though he felt a swell of pride as she uncomfortably cleared her throat and made a visible attempt to shake it off. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that's him.” She croaked, curling further away from the image on the screen. Eggsy passed the tablet down to Asbo, who took a moment to memorize the face with burning hatred before wordlessly passing it Harry's way. 

“Adam DeKant...” Harry read out musingly, before continuing to pass the tablet around until it eventually made its way back to Merlin. “See what you can get on him as soon as possible, if you please.” Without another word, Merlin was whipping out of the room in search of his bank of computers, and Eggsy tried to suppress a grin. 

_Now we've fuckin' got ya, bastard_.

“I do believe that your positive identification is more than enough for us to be going on with, at the moment.” Harry said gently, obviously making an effort to arrange his expression into something soft and _kind_ ; clearly, Eggsy wasn't the only one who had realized why Mina seemed to have an aversion to him. “Though I'm sure you may know more things of value to us, I believe that could considerably wait until after you've taken some rest, if you're so inclined.” She nodded warily in agreement, and Eggsy could see that the exhaustion and pain were taking their toll on her. 

“Before young Excalibur takes you off,” Gaius spoke up suddenly, smiling benignly at them. “I thought I may as well introduce myself. My name is Gaius, I am the head of our Psychiatric services.” Eggsy realized with a jolt that they _hadn't_ really bothered to make introductions for her, all of them more focused on the mission. 

“You want to talk to me.” She said flatly, not out of any sort of rudeness, but more a confirmation of the fact. Eggsy covered her hand that was still clinging to his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I spent a lot o' time over the last year talkin' with Gaius,” He said quietly, as she gripped tighter. “It's gonna be totally your choice if you want to or not – we ain't gonna _make_ you do it – but I won't lie and say that I don't think it's a good idea. I think he'd be able to help you, like he helped _me_.” He was deliberately drawing her back to the conversation they'd had in the Medical Ward while waiting for Asbo to show up, where he'd told her that talking it out with someone had helped him get _better_. She drew in as deep a breath as she could manage while still injured, obviously thinking it over.

“Maybe.” It was the best answer they could hope to get from her at the moment, which both Eggsy and Gaius knew. 

“Of course.” The old man said simply, giving her the space she needed. 

“What happens now?” She asked, eyes drooping as the exhaustion obviously settled its hooks into her more firmly. 

“ _Now_ we take you back to Medical for some rest.” Eggsy replied, noticing her slight frown of displeasure. He dropped his voice low, to barely a murmur, meant for her and her alone. “Would you be more comfortable by yourself, or would you rather not be alone?” She let out a slow breath, shoulders tensed rigidly. “Ain't no shame in askin' fer what you _need_ , remember?” 

“I don't want to be alone.” She replied after a beat, just as quietly. “I... I need...” Insight came to him with a flash, understanding perfectly.

“Someone there to watch your back while you sleep?” Her shoulders loosened immediately in relief.

“ _Please_.”

“How 'bout _two_ someones, yeah?” He glanced at Dennis, knowing he was close enough to be hearing the conversation, and was gratified when his cousin gave a nod. Mina swallowed heavily, obviously overwhelmed. 

“Yeah, okay.”

* * *

Harry couldn't quite hear what they were discussing, but he noticed the sudden relaxing of the tension in the poor girl's shoulders and assumed that Eggsy was talking her into getting some rest somehow. He was therefore thoroughly unsurprised when, at a louder tone, the younger man declared “Up we go now” and rose to his feet with her small form once more clasped securely in his arms. Eggsy seemed to pause and raise a brow in question when Asbo didn't immediately leave his seat in order to follow them.

“Be down in a mo'.” The other boy said gruffly, sending a narrow-eyed look Harry's way before returning to his cousin. “Just wanted a word.” Harry made an attempt to hide his own surprise, rather thrown that the young man would wish to discuss something privately with him. _Perhaps he wishes to discuss Mina? Yes, that would make sense_. Eggsy and Asbo seemed to share some kind of _look_ , one that Harry was unfortunately unable to parse, before Eggsy nodded in acceptance and turned to exit the room. Harry waited patiently as Roxy and Gaius both took their leave as well, Asbo unmoving upon the settee and looking serious. 

“Was there something you wished to discuss?” Harry asked after some moments of silence. The look he was treated to once the boy glanced up was hard, challenging. 

“...'m stayin' here with Mina tonight.” He said, shoulders tight and looking as though he expected a fight. Harry blinked.

“But of course, I wouldn't think to separate you.” Harry wasn't entirely certain of the relationship between the two, but he supposed that at the closeness they'd displayed, one could draw the obvious conclusion. Asbo pulled a face, as though he knew what Harry was thinking, before his expression turned to one considerably more _calculating_. 

“Does it bother you?” Harry raised a brow at the inquiry, not entirely certain as to what the boy was referring to.

“Does what bother me?”

“That he's been lettin' her touch him so easy.” 

“Not in the slightest,” Harry replied, well and truly thrown by the implication. “I am fully aware of the fact that your Mina has just suffered something truly horrifying – something that I _wish_ I couldn't say that Eggsy understood, but obviously that would be a falsehood. I recognize that his only desire is to _help_ her, and she can hardly be blamed for seeking comfort where it is offered.” Asbo sat back in his seat, looking satisfied at Harry's answer.

“Good. 'Cos otherwise I'd have ta knock some fuckin' sense into ya, guv.” Harry allowed a small smile to press to his lips.

“Indeed.” 

“When I need ta get back to London, where do I go?” 

“The bullet train that you took here will return you to the tailor's shop, at any time that you wish to go. If you give myself or Eggsy some warning, we can ensure to have someone meet you there in order to give a palm print for access, as Dagonet would have done for you this afternoon.” The young man nodded his head seriously, regarding Harry with that narrow-eyed look once again.

“It ain't like that,” He said suddenly, and Harry found himself scrambling a bit to try and follow the thought process so as to know what in the bloody hell they were talking about _now_. Obviously he wasn't masking his confusion quite as well as he'd hoped, as Asbo snorted before elaborating. “Me and Mina. Like I told your Lancelot, it ain't like that. She's Ace.” 

“She... seems like a rather special young woman, yes?” Harry had often heard Eggsy refer to nice or amazing things as being 'aces', but he wasn't entirely certain what that had to do with the conversation at hand. Asbo stared at him in apparent disbelief for a moment, before rolling his eyes. 

“No, mate – She's _Ace_.”

“I'm beginning to have the suspicion that I have no idea what that means.” 

“No shit.” The boy grumbled before shaking his head. “She's _asexual_. It gets shortened down to 'Ace' a lot these days.”

“Ah.” Now _that_ term Harry understood. “Well, given that I'm dating a man nearly half my age, I'm hardly going to be one to judge. But seeing as how I highly doubt you give a fuck about my opinion on such things, perhaps it would be best to just tell me why this has been brought up as a concern.” Harry's tone was amused and without malice, and Asbo looked reluctantly impressed by his statement. 

“Fair enough. I wanna make sure that when she goes to see that man o' yours, the old fucker – ”

“You think she'll speak with Gaius?”

“Eggsy'll get her to go, I know he will. I wanna know that he ain't gonna be tryin' ta 'fix' that part o' her, ya get me? She had no interest in datin' or sex ages _before_ this clusterfuck, and there ain't _nothin'_ wrong with her bein' that way, ya hear?” The boy was like some kind of overprotective snarling bulldog, and Harry privately thought that Mina was quite blessed to have such a friend in her corner. 

“I assure you that Gaius would try nothing of the sort, and is quite well-versed in such things, despite his age. Of _course_ there is nothing wrong with her for being asexual, and no one here will attempt to say as much, on this you have my word.” He waited whilst the boy studied his face, obviously trying to judge if he could believe Harry or not. 

“Alright, then.” He gave a rather uncomfortable shrug, before pressing up from the settee to wander to the door. “Hey, guv?” Harry blinked, before making an inquiring sound when Asbo paused halfway through the threshold. “I suppose you's an alright geezer.” 

Harry couldn't hold back his pleased smile as door swung closed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Some discussion in the beginning of this chapter about Mina's situation, Eggsy's past, and the consequences thereof.

Eggsy hid a wince as Mina squeezed down tightly on his fingers, his hands encompassing both of hers; there was sort of a dual-purpose to the hold, if he was being honest – to give her what comfort he could, yes... but also so that he could stop her from lashing out unconsciously at the nurse currently poking her with a needle.

They'd returned down to Medical without incident, and as they'd passed the door back into the room where he'd originally found her, Eggsy'd needed to steel his nerves a bit – he knew she was tired, and overwhelmed, and in a lot of pain... he _knew_ , alright? – but he also knew that this wasn't something that could be put off any longer. 

He'd expected resistance, maybe even anger, when he'd told her that they _really_ needed to let the Medical staff check her over; he'd even seen her open her mouth in order to argue with him, but had been quick to give her his reasoning before she could speak – namely, the fact that if her captivity had resulted in her contracting any kind of disease, they needed to know sooner rather than later so that they could treat it.

She'd deflated instantly at that, and Eggsy couldn't help the fact that his heart ached in empathy for her. In all his dealings, Dean – and later Eggsy himself – had always been careful when it came to the risk of diseases and such; he knew that Dean hadn't done it out of any real concern for Eggsy's well-being, but rather the fact that nobody in their right mind would pay for infected flesh and he needed the boy to be _useful_. 

No one would have been taking that kind of consideration for Mina, who'd been essentially kept as a slave.

The good thing about Kingsman was that, _unlike_ the hospitals, you didn't have to wait ages for your results. They'd known pretty quickly that thankfully she'd managed to avoid contracting anything other than a relatively minor infection – something easily treated and recovered from – and he breathed a sigh of relief that the poor girl wouldn't have to deal with lifelong consequences for something that was entirely beyond her control. 

“All finished, darling.” The nurse said in that patently cheerful tone that all nurses everywhere seemed to perfect, as she started gathering up all the bits and bobs of her equipment. They could hear the rustling of her stiff scrubs quietly in the background as Eggsy ran his eyes over Mina's pinched face.

“Alright?” He asked, as her tight grip on his fingers eased and he determined it was safe to let her hands go. Mina nodded her head tiredly, looking so fucking _young_ with the way that she was swaddled in Asbo's too-large jumper and making Eggsy's heart just fucking _ache_ with it. 

This should have never happened to her. She shouldn't have ever had to suffer something like this. 

He helped her get laid out on the gurney bed, tucking her under the blankets as the nurse finally stopped her bustling and slipped quietly out of the room. He posted himself in the lone armchair, expecting her to fall almost immediately asleep from her exhaustion, but was surprised when she spoke.

“He got drunk.” Eggsy blinked at her, before lifting a brow in inquiry; a small smile pressed to her lips before she explained. “I saw the dragon tattoo on his ass one time when he got drunk. We went to the pub with some of his... _friends_...” Eggsy's mouth turned down in displeasure, knowing just from the tone on the word that she was talking about Gog and his idiot mates. “I was the only girl there that night, and some of them were getting a bit too handsy for my liking. I think, even being as tipsy as he was, Dennis got worried about it... So his brilliant plan was to basically tell them all that he had dibs on me first.” She huffed out a quiet laugh.

“Oh now _this_ I've got to hear.” 

“We'd already had an _understanding_ of each other, at that point, so I wasn't concerned or anything when he said that. They all started sort of needling him about it, so he decides he's gonna stand up, basically throw me over his shoulder, and take off for one of the bedrooms. I was more worried that he was gonna drop me with the way he was wavering, if I'm being honest.”

“You're takin' the fuckin' piss.” Eggsy laughed.

“Oh just wait, it gets better.”

“Fuck _me_.”

“So we get into the room, and in his drunken logic he decides that we ought to make it believable... you know, just in case they decide to burst in on us in the morning or something. So he starts peeling off his fucking clothes, the whole time while assuring me that he'd sleep on _top_ of the blankets and that I didn't need to worry.” Eggsy couldn't stop himself from laughing until his eyes started to water, somehow perfectly able to picture his cousin doing just that. “So I figure, alright fine. I trust him, despite the fact that he's drunk off his rocker – so I strip down to just my underwear and hop under the covers figuring he'd stop at his boxers, right?” 

“Oh _god_.” 

“I _definitely_ figured wrong. All the sudden, he's peeling _those_ off too, and I'm getting more of an eyeful than I'd expected – I really could have lived without actually seeing my best friend's junk, I'll be honest. So he sort of collapses face-down on top of the covers, completely bare-ass naked, and passes out within _seconds_. Thus is the tale of how I've seen his dragon tattoo.” She was chuckling along quietly while Eggsy continued to piss himself laughing over Dennis' drunken reasoning. “Turns out he was right, though – next day, Gog comes bursting into the room with no warning, almost like he was _checking_. Didn't leave until Dennis threw a shoe at him.” 

“I really fuckin' _hate_ that wanker.”

“You and me both, man. S'alright, though – Dennis told him to fuck off awhile ago, don't think they hang out anymore.” Her eyes started to droop some more, and Eggsy knew that it wouldn't be long before she'd be out completely. 

“Was thinkin' I'd ask them to wheel in another bed, if that's alright. Should I get one for Denny too?” Her reply, when it came, was mumbled and sleepy.

“Nah, we can share... done it before.” Her breath evened out with sleep in no time at all, and Eggsy could feel himself softening a bit. He could see why her and Asbo had become such close friends. It was only a few moments before the door to the room quietly opened, and the man himself shuffled inside. 

“That was one hell of a fuckin' long _word_.” Dennis pulled a face, before flipping Eggsy the V's. 

“Piss off, went out to have a smoke after we was done, you arsehole.” As he moved further into the room, eyes landing on Mina's sleeping form and the tension in his body loosening, Eggsy could indeed detect a waft of fresh smoke coming from his cousin's clothes. 

“Shit's gonna kill ya one day, bruv.” Eggsy's eyes drew together in a frown when Dennis just shrugged it off easily.

“Probably be dead from somethin' else long before it'll have the chance, mate.” Eggsy opened his mouth to ask what the bloody hell _that_ was supposed to mean, before snapping it shut. He was probably talking about the fact that he runs into fucking _fires_ for a living – and after all, it wasn't like _Eggsy_ had a leg to stand on there, given what working for Kingsman usually entailed. He decided to leave the comment alone. 

“Was gonna get the staff to wheel in another bed for me for tonight. I asked Mina if I should get one for you too, but she said you could share.” Dennis' face pulled into a concerned frown, even as he lowered himself to sit softly on the edge of the bed, digging his fingers into tired eyes momentarily before turning his attention back to Eggsy. 

“Look, bruv...” He started, and Eggsy could feel his stomach already twisting into knots. It wasn't often that the two of them would talk about _serious_ things – Dean, Smith Street, Asbo's shitty excuse for a father – all these topics were usually avoided at all costs, but on the unspoken understanding that if one of them _wanted_ to bring it up, the other would listen. “I ain't ever asked about what you used to... you know. Weren't none o' my business unless you wanted it ta be. But I need to know what I might be in for, here.” He gestured towards the small form in the bed, even though they both knew what he was talking about. 

“That's fair, cuz.” Eggsy said, because it _was_. He sighed heavily, starting to feel his own exhaustion. “Since she said sharin' is fine, than it prob'ly is – but if you's gonna hop in with her, you gotta know that she's more than likely gonna wake up in the middle o' the night, and there's a pretty big chance that it'll be fuckin' _violent_ , at least until her brain comes online enough ta know where she is and who she's with.” Asbo nodded his head seriously.

“Your people ain't given her anythin' to help her sleep?”

“She didn't want none, which isn't surprisin'. It's...” He struggled to find the right words, to try and explain. “Bein' out o' control of your own body... it's terrifyin'. And drugs just take away that control, yeah? Don't matter that they're meant to help.” 

“Can I ask ya somethin' else?”

“...'course, bruv.” 

“I know you came outta... _all that_ not wantin' to be touched. So far she seems alright with it, and I just... _why_?” Eggsy took a moment to think before answering. 

“Gaius told me in the beginnin' that people react to this kind o' thing in different ways, and it ain't gonna be the same for one as for the other... So I can't say for _sure_ that I'm right about what she's thinkin', just gonna put that out there.” Dennis nodded his understanding and waited patiently for Eggsy to continue. “But at my best guess, I'd have ta say that it's because she trusts you – she was tellin' me earlier 'bout you gettin' pissed with Gog one time and sharin' a bed with her while bare-arsed.”

“ _For fuck's sake_ – ”

“The _point_ is, she's got a history of trustin' ya with her... body. Sorry, don't really know how else ta put that. I mean, think of it, mate – she said she never once worried that time, 'bout what you might do or whatever. She knew it down to her core that you weren't ever gonna try and lay a hand on her, yeah? So she's startin' off with already havin' that understandin' with you, and right now a lot o' her brain is gonna be runnin' on instinct. You can touch her, because even her subconscious has it on fuckin' _lock_ that you won't do nothin' ta hurt her.”

“What about you, then?”

“I think I'm allowed to touch her because o' two things – one, the fact that we got... _common ground_ , so ta speak. And two, the fact that I look so much like _you_. Like, in the back o' her mind, in that part that's runnin' on instinct, it's just... she sees me, but associates it with _you_. Is that comin' out right?” 

“So if other people try ta touch her, it prob'ly won't end well, yeah? She'll prob'ly react... bad. Like you do sometimes.” Eggsy shrugged, but figured it was as good a guess as any. “Anythin' else I should know?” There was _tons_ , really – it wasn't like this was some kind of simple topic – but Eggsy knew that Dennis was mostly asking about what he would need to know to just get through the night. 

“...Alright. This bit might come out soundin'... _weird_.” Eggsy could feel himself getting embarrassed, even though he knew it was nothing to be embarrassed _about_. “She's probably gonna have this thing about scent? Like, not everybody ends up havin' this problem, but... I've already sort of seen her doin' some o' the same things that I do.”

“What you mean, bruv?”

“In the beginnin', I sort of... latched onto a certain scent, because I found it comfortin'. Like, if I was panickin' about somethin', I could smell that scent and it could calm me down, make me feel safe.”

“Mum's candle...” Eggsy blinked.

“What?”

“Mum had a candle that you used ta beg her to light up. That big one, smelled like... I dunno, wood or summat.” A rueful grin twitched to Eggsy's mouth as he suddenly remembered; his Auntie Rae'd had a big jar candle that was sandalwood scented – it hadn't been _exactly_ the same as what he now knew was _Harry's_ scent, but it'd been close enough that when they were younger it had worked to calm him.

“I totally fuckin' forgot about that,” He chuckled. “but yeah, that's the idea.”

“So what's it for Mina? You said you'd already noticed some things.”

“I think it's _you_.” Asbo blinked in surprise while Eggsy just grinned at him.

“The fuck does _that_ mean?”

“Earlier, when I got her into your jumper. I was workin' on her hair, I noticed she was keepin' the sleeves up to her mouth and nose, asked her what it smelled like. She said mostly your cigarettes and a bit like cloves. Think that maybe she's sort of done the same thing as I did – maybe latched onto your scent as somethin' that's comfortin'.” He rubbed a hand uncomfortably over the back of his neck at his cousin's dumbfounded expression. “I said it would probably sound weird, bruv.” 

“Nah,” He said after a moment, expression falling into something more serious and contemplative. “it ain't weird. So if I... I dunno, brought in some more o' me shirts for her? D'you think that would help?” Eggsy's brows raised in pleased surprise.

“Yeah, bruv. That'd probably be good. Er... don't take this the wrong way or nothin', but... you're sort of rollin' with this a lot better than I'd thought.” He watched as a muscle ticked when Dennis clenched his jaw angrily.

“I'll do anythin' I fuckin' have to, if it means helpin' her. She's the best mate I got, and to be honest I ain't got many o' them these days. And I'll fuckin' tell you somethin' _else_ – if I ever get my hands on the pieces o' shit who done this to her, I will beat them bloody with me own two fuckin' hands until they's _six feet under_ , ya get me? I'd walk into the goddamn prison yard with a smile on me face, _swear down_.” 

“We's gonna handle it, bruv. That's a _promise_.” Dennis blew out a harsh breath, making a visible effort to calm himself back down. “C'mon, then. Lemme get a bed wheeled in for meself, and we'll get some fuckin' rest.” He tossed Dennis a spare pair of the soft cotton pyjama bottoms that they kept around Medical for the patients, figuring that they'd be more comfortable to sleep in than his denims. Asbo slipped out of his jacket and tee, leaving on the dull grey vest that he'd worn underneath, the lack of sleeves putting the tattoo of the knight and his lance on display. At the sight of his cousin starting to ease himself into the free space that Mina had left, another thought suddenly occurred to him. “One more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“Try not to hold her down.”

* * *

Harry felt _old_.

It was a common enough occurrence in recent days, but as he poured himself another generous helping of scotch, he couldn't help but ruminate upon it all the same. Perhaps it had been for the best that he'd taken over the role of Arthur – for if he was being entirely honest, within his heart of hearts, he didn't think he had the _energy_ to be an active agent anymore. 

He knew logically that such a feeling had more to do with _temperament_ than his actual age; he'd been perfectly fine with his place as Galahad up until that disastrous day, after all. Eggsy was fond of saying that one's experiences could 'age' them far more than their _years_ , and Harry knew that he'd certainly been through more than enough in the last while to make that applicable. 

He certainly wouldn't lack for things to discuss in his appointment with Gaius the next morning.

He wondered how things were going down in Medical – had there been any issues in examining their poor guest? Were the three of them comfortable? Would Eggsy suffer one of his night terrors, given the circumstances? – Harry knocked back his drink in one swallow, admonishing himself not to dwell on it. He'd deliberately refrained from demanding a report, feeling as though they were owed at least a modicum of privacy, such as it was. Had there been anything of note, he would have been informed regardless. 

Sighing tiredly, he crawled under the duvet of the bed in his borrowed room at HQ, and tried not to remember that the last time he'd slept there, he'd shared it with Eggsy. To no avail, as it were, as he stared listlessly up at the ceiling and thought about the weight of the boy in his arms as he'd cradled him on the floor of the bath, after finding him there weak and trembling. The way that Eggsy had so valiantly tried to hide his worries about Michaelson, and had gripped onto Harry and breathed him in as though it was all he needed. 

As though _Harry_ was all he needed.

What an utter _fool_ he'd been, to have risked losing such a wondrous gift because of ridiculous concerns about _aging_ , of all things. Eggsy had never cared about Harry's age, or what his body looked like – he'd known almost from the start that the boy loved based on personality, on _heart_ , and nothing else. Yes, Harry had known this... and Eggsy was right.

He'd been using it as a convenient distraction from the _real_ issue – the fact that Harry couldn't handle the thought that there were elements of his life that were beyond his control. 

He'd been entirely unfair to have put that on Eggsy. Folding his hands beneath the back of his head, he instead tried to figure out _why_ he was like this – he knew that Gaius would more than likely ask him such a thing as well, so he supposed it wouldn't hurt to give the matter some forethought. 

Logic would dictate that the answer lay with his parents. 

Harry'd grown up with the uneasy knowledge that there were _expectations_ for him. He could remember being a child, and already straining under the copious rules that his parents were apt to enforce – “ _Gentlemen do not track dirt into the house, Harold_ ” and “ _It is unseemly to spend your time in the gardens playing with insects, young man_ ” and “ _No you may not go to the Weltshire's home and play with their boy, they can't even afford public school for godsakes_ ”. 

When he'd gotten older, the expectations had only grown – “ _You bloody well will **not** join the RAMC, you will be going to Oxford_ ” and “ _Enough of your games, Harold. Settle down and find a suitable wife_ ” and “ _You spend far too much time with that young lad, people will **talk**_ ”.

His parents had refused to speak with him for nearly ten years after he'd defied them and joined the Royal Academy Medical Corps regardless of their wishes; it had been the first time in his life that he'd taken control for himself, and damn the consequences.

He'd been _Harry_ since that day, and was quite content to never be called _Harold_ again in his life. Even when he'd reconciled with his mother after his father's passing, he'd corrected her every time until she'd given up and merely referred to him as 'son'. 

When he'd joined on with Kingsman, his mother had been thrilled at what she'd taken as his 'settling down' (since, of course, all she'd been told was that he'd become a tailor), and things with her had been... _civil_ for a little while after. It was about the time that she'd started once again to make noises about his finding a wife – even going so far as to try and arrange luncheons with her friends and their daughters of _appropriate breeding_ – that he'd blatantly remarked that he had no interest in women of any kind, so she might as well stop wasting everyone's time. 

She'd ignored him, as though he'd never even spoken, and any time he'd tried to talk to her about it, she'd found a way to derail the conversation and pretend as though it hadn't ever happened. 

It'd been a heavy thing, in the beginning, to know that his own mother would never accept that part of him, that should he ever actually find someone worth keeping he'd never be able to bring him home to meet her. After years, he'd grown rather _numb_ to the hurt that it brought, and it had become just one more in a long list of topics that they never spoke of. 

It'd been almost a relief, when she'd died. Harry wasn't sure if that made him a monster or not. 

Eggsy would have _hated_ his mother. Or no – rather, that wasn't quite right. Eggsy would have hurt for Harry, for the way she treated him. He would have shouted her down about a mother's duty to love her son, unconditionally, because the boy believed in such things. He would have tried to convince her. 

A small, sad smile pulled to his lips as an image of Eggsy lecturing him at the Black Prince about ivory towers came to mind, and he rather thought the boy would have worn the very same expression while giving Harry's mother what-for. 

He was fairly certain no one would _ever_ fight for him as fiercely as Eggsy.

* * *

Eggsy's phone display read nearly three o' clock in the morning when the screaming woke him suddenly.

At first, he'd thought that it was his own screaming waking him up again, before he'd remembered. He opened his eyes immediately to get a look at the other bed in the dim lighting of the room, but made sure not to move a muscle. He knew _intimately_ the embarrassment that could come with being seen in such a state, and decided to fake still being asleep unless it looked like he was needed. He dropped his eyes closed as the screams tapered off into harsh panting breaths and heartbreaking whimpers, listening carefully. 

Dennis had shot upright in bed at nearly the same time as Mina had, hands outstretched but refraining from touching just yet. Eggsy heard some rustling, before his cousin's low voice came out quietly.

“Mina? S'alright, kitten. You's with me, we're alright.” Under less fraught circumstances, Eggsy would've taken the absolute _piss_ out of Dennis for the fact that he'd actually called her _kitten_ , but as it stood he was simply proud of the fact that he'd had enough brains to start with giving her something familiar to latch onto. 

“Denny?” Her voice was shaking, sounding about a half-second away from tears.

“Yeah, love. S'just me. Is it alright if I touch ya?” She must have nodded a yes, as the next moment he heard rustling. Eggsy peeked an eye open quickly, seeing that she was cradled in his lap and beginning to cry. 

“Told you not to call me 'kitten'.” She said with a watery laugh that sounded much more like a sob. It had the sound of a long-standing inside joke, like she was trying to distract herself with it. 

“Ain't my fault. You's so fuckin' _tiny_.” 

“You're just too _big_.” They fell silent for awhile, and Eggsy had almost been to the point of legitimately falling back asleep when he heard Asbo speak again.

“I'll call the station in the mornin', tell 'em I ain't comin' today.” Mina made a disgruntled noise at that.

“No, you gotta work. I'll be alright, I got your cousin here.” Eggsy was happy to hear that the moments of calm quiet had obviously put her back on firmer footing, her voice coming out stronger than it had been, despite the fact that he could easily hear the false-bravado in it. 

Eggsy knew what she was doing, because he'd done it himself _plenty_ of times – you never wanted those you cared about to see you at your lowest points. She _wanted_ Dennis to go to work, because she didn't want him to watch her suffering. 

“Mina – ”

“No. I'm serious, Denny. I'll be... alright. You go to work, just...”

“Just what?”

“Maybe come back after? Will they let you?” He heard his cousin let out a disbelieving snort.

“Like to see them fuckin' _try_ to keep me out.” Mina huffed a small laugh at that, and Eggsy peeked an eye open again when he heard more rustling. The two of them settled down flat on the bed once more, obviously turned toward each other but it didn't look like they were touching. “I'll grab some more stuff for ya, after my shift. Anythin' you want?” There was silence while she seemed to think it over.

“Chocolate. I would _murder_ for some fucking chocolate right now.” 

Eggsy fell back asleep to the sound of Asbo's quiet laughter.


	14. Chapter 14

“Good morning, Arthur.” As Harry settled himself into the plush armchair meant for patients in Gaius' room, he made an effort to _not_ look like he'd only gotten an hour's sleep. He had the feeling that the old man somehow knew regardless.

“Good morning, Gaius.” 

“I must admit, Harry, that I'm quite curious as to what this appointment is pertaining to; you haven't felt the need to counsel with me since your return, after all. Do you feel that you've had some setbacks concerning Kentucky?”

“Eggsy's angry with me.” He felt inordinately stupid the moment the phrase slipped out, feeling as though he was a bloody _teenager_ again, especially when Gaius raised a dryly amused brow at him. 

“Yes, I had thought I detected some tension when we were all together yesterday. Shall we discuss the specifics, then?” Harry let out a sigh. _Might as well get to it_.

“Medical diagnosed me with arthritis in my hands whilst Eggsy was away on his last mission, and I... may have failed to inform him of that fact upon his return.” 

“May have?” The tone was somehow accusatory while still remaining even, and Harry suppressed a chastised grimace.

“...Yes, fine. I deliberately didn't tell him.” Harry was only just beginning to remember how much he hated talking about his _feelings_ with other people; a lifetime of repression was certainly hard to move past. “He found out about it on his own, and was quite angry with me for keeping it from him.”

“Knowing the boy as I do, I rather think that it was more _hurt_ at your inability to confide in him than _anger_ – do you not agree?” Shame washed over him at the gentle rebuke. 

“Yes, quite.”

“Why did you feel the need to keep it from him?”

“At the time, I'd told myself that I was afraid he would wish to leave, once he had a visible reminder of the fact that I am so much older than him. Eggsy claims that the real issue is my inability to handle things happening in my life that I can't control.” 

“Do you think he's correct in his assessment?” Harry sighed, raising a hand to rub at his eyes tiredly.

“I feel that it may be a... _fair_ one.” He dropped his hand back down, eyes fixed upon the floor as he mentally reviewed their rather one-sided row. “He'd told me that he was leaving for the night, because he was too upset to stay, and I'd asked him if he was going to be coming back at all. He told me that I'm always trying to push him away first, without asking what he wants.” 

“Do you?” Harry's gut twisted, making him feel rather ill.

“...Yes.”

“Why do you believe you do such a thing?” 

“I suppose some part of me thinks that if I'm anticipating him leaving, it will somehow hurt less in the end. Which is rather futile, I admit.”

“So it would perhaps be fair to say that since you have no control over whether he leaves or stays, you are instead trying to take control over your _reaction_ to such an event?” Harry nodded his head, knowing the truth to the statement. “Why do you think you have such a difficult time, in regards to your ability to control the circumstances around you? Do you believe this stems from your experience in Kentucky?” Harry had already given the topic due consideration, during his sleepless hours the night before. 

“No. Though having my ability to control my own body taken away by Valentine's signal was certainly... well, we've already discussed this at length previously, I won't rehash it. But I believe that this is perhaps an issue that I've had since childhood.”

“How so?”

“My parents were quite prone to... planning out my life _for_ me, as it were. I quite often as a child felt that I had no choice in important matters.”

“Most commonly, it is difficult for one to realize the damaging effect that things from our childhoods can have upon our lives as adults. Have you discussed this with Eggsy?”

“No, I... we haven't quite had a chance for personal discussion, given the unexpected arrival of Miss Mina and her need for Eggsy's assistance.”

“What about previously?”

“...No.” Harry valiantly resisted the urge to squirm under Gaius' judgmental look. _I'm a grown man in my fifties, for godsake_.

“You were mentor to the boy during his candidacy, and have been in a romantic relationship with him for over a year now. Exactly how much of your past have you shared with him, Harry?”

“...Very little.”

“Which means?” Damn the old man for knowing him so well.

“...Basically nothing at all.”

“ _Harry_.”

* * *

Though they'd all awoken when Asbo's alarm had blared from his phone to get his arse moving in time to make it to work, Eggsy and Mina had both chosen to laze about in their beds for a few hours yet. It'd been quite a long night, with many interruptions as night terrors had taken hold of the poor girl, and they were all running a bit ragged. 

At one point during the evening, Eggsy had jerked awake from one of his own – _Bad dog, bad dog, bad dog_ – and though he'd made no sound aside from a quickly in-drawn breath, Mina had obviously already been awake and heard him. 

“Does it ever get easier?” Her voice had been a quiet and miserable murmur in the darkness, and he'd rolled so as to be facing the bed that she'd shared with his cousin. In the dim lighting, he'd easily distinguished the pinched look of fear on her face, and wished with all his might that he could somehow take the horror away from her. 

After all, Eggsy was already used to carrying the weight of everything – what difference would a bit more make? But obviously it wasn't possible – even _if_ they had control over what specific memories the amnesia darts could target (which they _didn't_ ), being able to forget wouldn't solve everything for her. It would still come back to her in nightmares, this he knew.

“...You get used to it.” It had hardly been a reassuring answer, but Eggsy had been unwilling to lie to her – she deserved better than that, after all she'd been through. 

He was brought out of his thoughts of the night before by the sound of her rolling over upon her bed to look at him. They'd both been fully awake for about an hour, though they hadn't seen fit to get up and move about just yet – if he was on bloody medical leave, he was certainly gonna take advantage of it, yeah? – but clearly the restlessness was setting in for her. Glancing over to see a dangerously listless expression on her face, he made a decision. 

“Alright. Up you get.” She blinked at him in confusion as he pressed his way out of his own bed, taking a moment to toss his abandoned shirt back on. “How's the... everything?” He asked, while waving a hand vaguely over his own abdomen, making her huff a small laugh at his wording before the smile slipped off her face again. 

“Still pretty... sore.” He nodded in understanding, coming closer to her bed. 

“Gonna carry ya then, alright?” Eggsy waited for her to give her consent, before he lifted her carefully into his arms as he'd done the day before. 

“Where are we going?” He was glad that she sounded only mildly curious rather than fearful, and took that as a good sign. 

“Small detour, and then I've got a surprise for ya.” 

She remained silent while they moved down the sometimes maze-like corridors of the mansion, until they reached the room that he'd used two nights previous. He'd left her perched next to the sink in the bath with one of the many spare toothbrushes from the cupboard, while he swapped out his trackies and shirt for a clean set. Tilting a bit to make sure she was still occupied, he stealthily sent a message from the Kingsman tablet on the night table and grinned to himself. 

_This is a fantastic idea_.

“All set, love?” He asked as he came into the bath at the sound of water running in the sink, waiting as she finished rinsing out her mouth so that he could take his turn with his own toothbrush. 

“You gonna tell me what we're doing yet?” He blinked at her innocently while he finished brushing, making her huff a small laugh again. _I'll get her laughing properly soon_ , he swore to himself. When he was all done, he lifted her up again and set off. “Seriously, where are we headed.” He grinned at her demanding tone as they left the building itself for outside.

“I told ya, it's a surprise! You'll love it, promise.” 

“You hardly know me, how would you know what I'd love?” Her tone was dryly amused, and Eggsy counted that as a win. 

“I know 'cos I'm gonna judge you heavily if ya don't.” He laughed, watching her face intently as he turned the corner into the entrance of the gardens. He was entirely satisfied by the look of surprise and wonder that overtook her as she finally saw their destination, all the varied and colourful blossoms arranged beautifully into what had always been Eggsy's personal paradise. 

“It's gorgeous...” She sighed after a moment, reaching out to gently touch a cluster of violets on a high-up planter. 

“Think this is prob'ly me favourite place in the whole world, yeah? Was a time when everythin' seemed... _dark_ , like I weren't ever gonna have light in me life again. When it'd get real bad, I'd come out here and just... _breathe_. Used ta bring my li'l girl out here and try to teach her all the names o' the flowers.” He chuckled at the memory of Daisy blinking at him, still too young at the time to really have been able to understand. 

“You have a daughter?” The surprise in her voice brought him back out of his thoughts, as he settled her gently onto the the padded garden bench with her feet in his lap, rubbing a thumb absently over her ankle. 

“Nah, not really.” He grinned at the familiar misunderstanding. “Daisy's me baby sister, but... life was pretty rough for us when she was just born. Me mum had a lot ta deal with, so I was basically raisin' her. Soon enough, we all just started callin' her _mine_ , 'cos I was the one puttin' most o' the work in, yeah?” He frowned a bit. “I know, that prob'ly sounds a bit... odd.” Mina shrugged easily, a small smile on her lips.

“Doesn't sound that strange to me.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked him over consideringly, and Eggsy wondered what she saw. “You're both too good to be real, honestly... You and Dennis.” Eggsy raised a brow in question. “You both care about other people, _way_ more than you care about yourselves, I think. Dennis just hides it better.” Eggsy's thoughts sobered.

“I done a lot of things I ain't proud of. And I do more for this job, where the only comfort I get is the idea that at least I'm doin' it for the _greater good_ or whatever.”

“Have you killed people?” The very air around them seemed to hush.

“Yes.”

“...A lot of people?”

“More'n I care to count.” 

“But they've all deserved it?”

“I certainly fuckin' hope so.” She regarded him seriously for a moment, and Eggsy fought to keep looking her in the eye, when all he wanted to do was drop his gaze to the ground. 

“I would've shot any of them, yesterday.” She said, watching him back just as intently. “If they'd tried to touch me, I think I could've easily pulled that trigger. I've been trying to figure out if that makes me horrible or not.” He kept silent, sensing that there was more. “I'd never thought myself capable of... _violence_ like that. And I don't know whether or not I should be terrified of the fact that apparently I _am_.” 

“Doin' what you have to, to defend yourself... That's not somethin' you should be ashamed or afraid of. I ain't exactly the best person to be givin' advice about this, maybe – because in a lotta ways, this job basically makes me a glorified killer – but all's I can say is that at the end o' the day, if you and the people you love are safe and happy... that's the only fuckin' thing that matters.” 

They paused in their conversation as the slight squeak of trolley wheels approached, and Eggsy let some of the tension that had crept in go as he spied his favourite of the kindly old ladies that seemed to make up a good bit of the mansion's support staff. She gave them a grandmotherly smile as she stopped in front of the bench, lifting the silver platter cover with a flourish.

“Tea, fresh made scones, butter and peach jam for breakfast – as requested, Excalibur.” He gave her a cheeky wink.

“When are you gonna marry me, Gloria?” She barked out a laugh as she began pouring the tea for them. 

“And sweep Arthur's most beloved out from under him? I've more respect for my King than _that_ , you rogue.” Mina giggled at the banter, the rest of the heaviness from their conversation blowing away.

“Okay, honestly. _What_ is with all the Camelot stuff? They keep calling you _Excalibur_ , then there was _Lancelot_ , _Merlin_ and _Gaius_ , now _King Arthur_ as well?”

“The short answer is rich toffs with too much bloody time on their hands.” Gloria _tsk_ ed at him, but let out an indulgent grin.

“Oh, _you_.” She said, before giving them an old fashioned curtsy and going on her way.

* * *

It was creeping toward evening by the time that Harry was able to break away from his paperwork, given that a good deal of his morning had gone to his appointment with Gaius. He had to admit that discussing things with the old man had certainly been helpful, as much as he _loathed_ speaking with others about personal affairs in general. While they'd spoken, Harry had come up with a _plan_. 

He just hoped that it wouldn't backfire on him spectacularly, as his plans sometimes were wont to do.

Though the door was already open when he arrived down in Medical, Harry took a moment to pause in the threshold and knock lightly against the jam, waiting for permission to enter. He could see that the two gurney beds had the arms lowered, and had been pushed together to make one larger space; Mina was propped against numerous pillows near the heads of the beds, whereas the two young men seemed to be lounging along the rest of them, Asbo's head pillowed on Eggsy's stomach with his eyes closed – perhaps it'd been a rather long day at the fire station, then. At the sound of his knock, both Mina and Eggsy's heads swung in his direction, though Asbo only cracked open a disinterested eye. 

“Good evening.” Harry greeted, still waiting patiently in the doorway – he didn't want the young lady to feel threatened or uncomfortable by his presence in the room, after all. “How are you feeling today, Miss Mina?” Her eyes still showed her wariness of him, but she nodded her head politely in acknowledgement.

“Any day free is a good day.” 

“Quite.” Not wanting to pressure her, he turned his attention away. “And you, Asbo? How was work?” The young man in question shrugged a shoulder, seeming to dig his head back into Eggsy's stomach harder when the other boy grumbled a complaint about the jostling. 

“S'alright, I guess.” Deciding that they'd all probably had enough of the stilted small-talk, Harry thought it best to move on to his true purpose for being there; Asbo's presence would certainly make it easier to see his plans fulfilled. 

“I was rather hoping I could borrow Eggsy for a few hours, if I may.” At Mina's slightly worried look, he elaborated. “Asbo is more than welcome to remain and keep you company in our absence, of course.” When she eased immediately, Harry knew that he'd guessed right about her concerns. He could see a muscle tick in the side of Eggsy's jaw as he clenched it, alerting Harry that he was quite obviously still upset with him.

He was going to be atoning for this particular cock-up for quite some time, clearly. 

“Alright.” Eggsy said finally, poking his cousin in the top of his head until the other boy lifted it off his stomach. Harry concealed the relief he felt as Eggsy got to his feet. _So far, so good_.

“I've left orders with the service staff to bring you any food or refreshments that the two of you may request; I assumed that you may not have taken the opportunity to eat some supper yet.” Asbo snorted out a laugh, prodding Mina's thigh lightly with his toes. 

“Think you got room for supper, or is you too full on that chocolate I brung ya?” 

“Piss off.” 

As Eggsy silently slid past him out the doorway, Harry only took the time to nod to them in goodbye before following him. The young man seemed determined to maintain his sullen silence as Harry guided them out to a waiting Kingsman cab, not once even asking a question for the duration of their journey. It was only as the cab pulled to a stop outside an old, stately looking home that Eggsy finally spoke.

“Where are we, Harry.” 

“My childhood home.” The answer was enough to earn him a shocked look from the boy, as Harry pressed his way out of the vehicle onto the walk out front. He took a moment to stare at the building, a confusing riot of emotions all vying for his attention, even as he could feel Eggsy's stare burning into him. Long, silent moments passed as the cab drove away and they continued to stand there. 

“We going in?” Eggsy's voice was quiet, the most gentle that Harry had heard it in awhile; it was as though he was somehow reading Harry's anxiety and reluctance to enter the building. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he decided not to hesitate any longer – they'd come here for a purpose, after all. 

“Yes, of course.” The house smelled strongly of disuse and dust, the very air quiet and still as though frozen in time. The once-immaculate front foyer looked dull to his eyes, the antique furniture long ago having lost its gleaming polish. Harry folded his hands together tightly, easing the grip with a wince when pain flared in his joints. 

“I always loved the sound of my mother's heels clicking quietly against the tile in this foyer. Hearing that sound as a young boy usually meant that we were soon to be heading out to some elegant party or another... They always brought me with them, even when most of their peers tended to hand their children off to nannies. I never had a nanny; my mother believed that parents should be involved in the rearing of their children, contrary to many others of this social class.” 

Harry turned toward the door to his father's study, feeling Eggsy following him silently. The rich leather furniture was placed as it had always been, the books upon the shelves coated in a layer of dust – probably thousands of pounds worth of literature, that Harry was leaving to rot.

“My father spent a great deal of time in this study. Even though he'd inherited his fortune like most others that he knew, he still worked very hard. I would sit in that chair there – the one by the window – and read his books while he did his business or had phone calls. I asked him one time why he bothered working, when we clearly didn't need the money. He told me that any man who spent his life in indulgence paid for on the backs of others, was no real man at all.” 

Harry touched careful fingertips to the top of his father's desk, rubbing them together afterwards when they came away covered in dust. They left the room, and only his many years as a spy stopped him from startling when he felt Eggsy silently take his hand, twining their fingers together. They climbed the central staircase, hand in hand, and Harry thought that perhaps he could finish this after all.

“This was my parents' room. It was no great secret that most of the upper class married for money, or political and business ties... hardly ever for love. My parents loved each other, very deeply, and shared this room every night until my father passed.” Harry took in the faded linens, the perfume bottles and make-up detritus strewn across his mother's antique vanity. He hadn't touched a thing in the old house since her death – he hadn't even entered it, until then. They moved on to Harry's own bedroom down the corridor.

“This was my room.” He finally looked to Eggsy, curious to see his reaction. He waited as the young man glanced around the space, a small frown upon his face.

“It's... blank.” Harry blinked, uncomprehending what that meant. 

“Beg pardon?”

“All the rest o' the places you shown me... they was pretty much what I'd thought these posh houses would look like, but they had... I dunno, _personality_ to 'em. This is just... _nothin'_.” Harry blinked, once again reminded of how astute Eggsy could be. He looked around the room again for himself, noting the neutral colours in the décor, the lack of personal items or even so much as photographs. 

“I mean... that night, of our twenty-four hours. Think I expected your place to look like _that_ – ” Here he waved a hand toward the hallway, indicating the rest of the house. “and I was really fuckin' surprised when we got in the door, yeah? ...'Cos you had all this _stuff_ just layin' around, right. The butterflies, and the paintings, and even the colours on some o' the walls. It just had... _you_ plastered all over it. There ain't none o' that here.” 

Harry swallowed thickly, unsure how to respond to such an observation. 

“I don't understand, Harry. What're you tryin' ta tell me with all o' this?” 

“Growing up, I knew two things absolutely – the first, was that my parents were at heart good people; the second was that they loved me, and only ever wanted the best for their only child.”

“Yeah, you certainly been makin' it sound like that.” 

“It wasn't until I got older, that I came to realize that in their quest to give me the best life possible, my parents were utterly failing to consider that what _they_ considered best was perhaps not what was best for _me_. When I began showing an interest in the various insects I'd find in the gardens, I was forbidden from ever interacting with them again – my mother's reasoning being that something could bite me, and I could get hurt. If I came home covered in dirt, I was promptly scolded because children of our social standing were expected to be clean and well-behaved, and they feared judgment over my apparent unruliness.”

Eggsy scoffed at that, but otherwise remained silent to let him finish. 

“When I wanted to play with the boy down the way, whose father was a simple workman, they forbade it because if such an association became known, the other boys at my public school would ridicule me for playing with the lower classes. They were afraid that allowing me to make friends like that would only bring about bullying at school and make me miserable. They didn't consider the fact that not allowing me to pick my own friends was _also_ making me miserable.”

Eggsy's thumb rubbed softly over Harry's own.

“As I grew older, the fact that I never seemed to be allowed to make a decision for myself chafed all the more; I decided that I wanted to join the RAMC, and was told quite succinctly that they would never permit it. My mother begged me to go to Oxford, to not get involved in the services. She was convinced that I would catch only my death, should I go.” He threw a rueful glance at Eggsy.

“I will admit, that although I played rather unsympathetic at the time, when you told me about your mother calling you home from the marines, it certainly struck a chord with me. I joined up regardless of their wishes, deciding that for the first time in my life I would take control over the world around me. They saw it only as a childish rejection of all that they'd tried to give me, and my father stopped speaking to me. We never reconciled before his death.” He gave Eggsy a smile that was pressed and thin, tugging on their hands to move them back out of the room. 

“By and large, the worst of it was when it came to my mother and her attempts to see me married. As a teenager in the seventies, when I'd first begun to quietly figure out in my own mind that I had a preference for men, homosexuality hadn't yet been decriminalized. I spent those years utterly silent on the topic, far too afraid of the potential consequences – there was no 'out and proud' at the time... not for me.” 

They journeyed back down the staircase, Harry breathing a sigh of relief as he led them out the back door to the garden. In its day, under his mother's touch, the garden had been a lovely sight – nowhere near the grandeur of the Kingsman Manor's gardens, but still beautiful in its own way. The years of absence and neglect had seen the flowers choked out by weeds and grass, and he suppressed a small smile as Eggsy _tsk_ ed in disapproval at the sight. They settled onto one of the stone benches, and Harry resolved to finish his tale. 

“After '83 when it was decriminalized, I'd thought that perhaps things could change. I'd reconciled with my mother, though things were certainly still strained, and she became singularly focused on my apparent need for a wife. I think... I think, in her mind, that it seemed a fine way for her to make amends for the years of silence. I think she believed that if she could help to find me a good woman to make me happy, than she could feel as though she'd atoned for everything. When I tried to tell her that I had no interest in women, she at first interpreted it as that I was too involved in work.”

Eggsy snorted, obviously thinking of what 'work' entailed for Harry by that time. 

“When I made it somewhat more explicitly clear that I rather fancied _men_ instead, she was horrified. The real... the real difficult part of it was, though, that she wasn't horrified by my homosexuality itself – rather it was the potential consequences of it.”

“What consequences? You said they'd already decriminalized it.” 

“Yes, but only _just_. No one was certain back then how long that would _last_ , let alone the fact that merely being decriminalized didn't mean that everyone was suddenly bastions of tolerance and acceptance. As far as my mother knew, I was merely some mild-mannered tailor – what would I able to do to defend myself if anyone found out I was one of _them_ and decided to attack me for it? In her mind, it was far better to ignore it all and pretend we'd never even had the conversation. I think she truly believed that if it was never spoken of, I would somehow be _safe_ from all of that. She stopped trying to find me a wife, but at the same time I knew that her fear of it meant I would never be able to share that part of my life with her. That I could never bring a partner home to meet her.”

Eggsy raised their clasped hands, kissing the back of Harry's. 

“I know that it would be much easier to believe that my parents were snotty, controlling and homophobic... but reality tends to be far more complicated. At the end of the day, the problem was that my parents loved me so much that they smothered me. I make no excuses for the things they did, or the way they handled everything. I can only say that I understand what their motivations had been – and that _understanding_ nevertheless doesn't prevent it from having had a negative affect upon both my life and my mental health. My parents were wrong in many of the things they did, despite the fact that they were usually well-intentioned, and it has left me with an overwhelming fear of things that I can't directly control.” 

He turned to look at Eggsy, his face pulled into concern and understanding. 

“You were absolutely right; I haven't been trusting you enough with things like this, and I promise that I will make a concerted effort from now on to get better at it. I'm so very, very sorry, my dear.” 

“Then start now. Tell me what you're thinkin' right this second.” 

“I love you.”


	15. Chapter 15

It was a start, at least.

It was clear that Harry was _trying_ , and that was the most important thing, as far as Eggsy was concerned. It wasn't as if the hurt that he'd felt over the whole situation was just going to magically disappear, but at the same time Eggsy knew that continuing to drag out their row just to see Harry squirm a bit wasn't going to help anything in the long run.

“Alright.” It wasn't nearly enough for all that Eggsy wanted to say, but he needed a moment to get the words arranged right in his own mind first. It was maybe a testament to how much they'd come to know each other that Harry remained silent, giving him the time to think. “I want a promise, Harry – swear it on your gentlemanly honour or what the fuck ever it is that you care about most, but I want to know that you're gonna fuckin' _keep_ it.”

“Of course.” 

“Swear to me that this ain't gonna happen again. Swear to me that the next time some shit comes up, you're gonna actually tell me about it – 'cos that's what this whole thing is supposed to be about, innit? We's supposed to be able to fuckin' _talk_ to each other, and handle our shit as a _team_ , yeah?” 

“I swear to you, Eggsy, that I will not keep matters of personal importance from you again. Though I hope you can understand that there will be some instances concerning Kingsman that in our roles as Head of the organization and agent I will not have leave to openly discuss.” Eggsy nodded in acknowledgement, already very aware that fine lines needed to be drawn between _personal_ and _business_. 

“And what are you swearin' on?” There was a moment, as Harry's eyes ran over his face, that the very air seemed to become charged with... _something_. Eggsy didn't know what that _something_ was, though. 

“I swear on your life.” He blinked a bit in surprise at Harry's answer.

“Me life?”

“You said to swear upon whatever it was that I care about most.” They stared at each other for a long moment. 

“That was so fuckin' _cheese_ , Harry.” The tension that had risen in the moment snapped abruptly, and Eggsy would've started cursing himself out for saying something so fucking _stupid_ when Harry'd clearly been serious in his answer, if it weren't for the fact that he was treated to seeing Harry's face crease into a breathtakingly happy smile.

“Perhaps,” The older man chuckled. “but nevertheless it remains true.” 

“So...” Harry was watching him quietly, obviously content to wait and let the younger man tell him how things were going to go. Eggsy thought of the last couple nights, and decided he'd had his fill of being anxious and lonely. “Wanna go defile your childhood bed?” It took a moment before Harry barked out a laugh, his shoulders losing the tight strain that they'd held since they'd arrived at the house. 

“As attractive of an offer as that is, dearest... The amount of dust in that house does rather put one off of the idea.” Eggsy couldn't help the small smile that pulled to his mouth at Harry's dry tone. “I believe there's nothing more to be done here, yes?” Eggsy nodded in agreement, waiting until Harry was preoccupied in calling the cab back before pulling out his own mobile.

_How's our girl doing?_

_**Well as can be expected, right. You needing help moving a body, bruv?** _

_Nah, talked our shit out, we're good. Need me to come back?_

_**Nah, mate. Go home and don't tell me the gory details of you banging your old as fuck boyfriend.**_

_Piss off._

Eggsy couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped him, grateful for the fact that Dennis could always be counted on for his particular brand of support. At the sound, Harry turned back around after ending his call. 

“Everything alright, my dear?”

“Yeah, love. Let's go home.”

* * *

When Harry had first come up with his plan to bring Eggsy to his childhood home, he hadn't dared to hope for such a positive outcome. 

He'd hoped to have the opportunity to show the young man a bit of his past – since, as Gaius had rightly pointed out, he'd certainly failed on that front – as well as perhaps be able to explain a little bit about why he was... well, the _way_ he was. 

That Eggsy was showing him such forgiveness was remarkable to him, though perhaps it shouldn't have been; Harry was well acquainted with the boy's large and loving heart, after all. Nevertheless, he would stick to the vow that he'd given – he knew that though Eggsy was forgiving him _now_ , should he ever make the same mistake again it was unlikely to go very well at all. Harry would not be so foolish as to risk such an outcome. 

Their cab ride back to the Mews was made in complete silence, which normally would have concerned Harry, were it not for Eggsy's easy clasping of their hands and the occasional sweep of the boy's thumb soothingly over Harry's own. The expression on Eggsy's face was pensive, and Harry decided to leave him to his thoughts, still too wary of putting a foot out of place, as it were.

Harry found himself inexplicably nervous as they finally crossed the threshold into their home, the front door clicking softly closed behind them. Though it had only been a couple days, it suddenly felt as though Eggsy had been away for _ages_ – though certainly there had been missions that had necessitated the young man sometimes being out of country for _months_ , Harry rather thought that the knowledge that it was his own foolishness that had driven Eggsy out of their home that was making the whole thing seem just that much... _more_. 

He felt wrong-footed and uncertain, which was dangerous territory for a spy that the boy seemed to inspire in him on a regular basis with hardly any effort. 

Where were they supposed to go from here? It wasn't as though Harry had any _experience_ with this kind of thing. Would Eggsy wish to spend the evening alone? Or would making an offer to leave him be only upset the young man further? Harry positively _ached_ with the need to touch him – _really_ touch him – but would hardly dare to presume that Eggsy's forgiveness meant that he was permitted to do so. 

“Harry.” He jerked out of his thoughts to find that the subject of them was watching him with narrowed eyes. “You look like you's about five seconds away from hyperventilatin'. What's goin' on in that brain o' yours?” 

His first instinct was to deflect and avoid the question – and had even opened his mouth in preparation to do so – when he realized that such was precisely the kind of behaviour that had _caused the bloody problem in the first place_. So instead, he took a breath and decided that there was no time like the present to begin living up to the vow he'd made. 

“I don't know what to do. I don't know what you want or need from me right now, and I don't know what I'm permitted to have.” Eggsy's face softened, though Harry could see a pleased smile tilt at the corner of his lips. 

“Thank you.” 

“Might I ask what for, my dear?” As far as Harry could determine, he hadn't done anything worthy of gratitude. 

“For tellin' me when I asked.” Eggsy seemed to be contemplating something, eyes narrowed for a moment before he spoke again. “Think I want a bath.” _Ah, good. This I know how to do_ , Harry thought with a jolt of relief. 

“I'll go draw one for you, then.” He was part-way up the steps to do so when Eggsy's next statement made him jerk to a halt. 

“Think I also want you naked in it.” He took a moment to process the words, not daring to turn back around. _That doesn't necessarily mean what you would like it to mean, old man. He hasn't explicitly said, it could be that he merely wishes to have some quiet time together_.

“As you wish, dearest.” 

Harry hummed lowly to himself as he bustled about, laying out his clothing carefully upon their bed before moving to the bath and running the water. The tub itself was an overly large old claw-footed monstrosity, which hardly _ever_ saw use, if he were being perfectly honest. Most often, Harry and Eggsy both were prone to quick showers in the stall in the corner of the room, either just before flying out the door to the Shop or after a weary trudge up the stairs at the end of a horrendously long day. 

When Harry had first gone about furnishing the Mews in his younger days, the grand old tub had been bought on a wholly optimistic _whim_. 

He supposed that somewhere in the overly romantic mindset of most in their twenties, he'd foreseen himself as living a life of _freedom_ – of having the ability to come to his own home, and share space with whomever he bloody well wished. Therefore, it had seemed prudent to purchase himself a tub capable of accommodating two fully grown men; that was just _practical_ , was it not? How was he to have known back then that it would take more than thirty years for such a thing to actually happen?

It wasn't that Harry hadn't been able to have _relations_ in all his many days; it was more that his work and the secrecy that it necessitated had meant that he'd been wholly unwilling to bring such people into his _home_ – a place that was supposed to remain a safe port of call between harrowing missions. Allowing others to know where you lived was a mistake that no _good_ spy made.

The fact that he'd chosen to bring Eggsy into his home during their twenty-four hours after the train test perhaps should have _said_ something, had Harry been willing to examine his own behaviour at the time. 

Absentmindedly, he added some of his sandalwood oil to the bath water as he _finally_ heard Eggsy's soft steps coming toward the room. Clearly he'd seen fit to dispose of his clothing before finding the bath as well, giving Harry an unimpeded view of the way his ribs expanded as he took in a deep breath, letting it out in a curiously satisfied-sounding sigh. The older man paused, however, when Eggsy turned to close the door, putting his back on display.

“Your stitches look as though they're fit to come out.” He observed, drawing nearer to trace a careful finger alongside the line of neat black medical thread just to the left of the boy's spine. _He could have so easily been paralyzed, had the wound been a mere inch more to the right_. 

Harry supposed he would never quite be able to get used to how much these instances of _almost_ terrified him.

* * *

Eggsy remained still, facing the door, as Harry's touch burned a trail of fire over his skin. 

“Care to do the honours, then?” He asked, forcing himself to move nearer to the cabinet over the sink where they kept the medical supplies, knowing there ought to be some scissors there. He kept his gaze down at the basket he was rummaging through, feeling reluctant to meet Harry's eyes and not entirely certain _why_ he felt that way. 

Harry's grip was gentle when he took the small scissors from Eggsy's grasp, one of his large palms wrapping around the smaller man's hip to bend him slightly forward. There was a quiet _snick_ as the scissors cut through one end of the thread, followed by that weirdly numb _tugging_ sensation that always came with stitches being removed. Eggsy wished he weren't so familiar with the feeling, but it wasn't like he could change that, really. 

“I could perhaps sign-off on ending your medical leave early, provided that our doctors concur. Shall I assign you a mission?” Eggsy's eyes snapped up, checking Harry's expression in the mirror, but only seeing a look of studied concentration as the older man finished his task. _Still tryin' to say he's sorry, I suppose_. 

Though the enforced down-time had been chafing at Eggsy like _mad_ , he found himself hesitating to take Harry up on the offer; in a lot of ways, he sort of felt like he was _already_ on a mission.

“Think I'd best keep meself around, given everythin' that's happenin' right now, yeah?” It wouldn't feel right, just taking off when he'd promised Mina that he'd be around to help her if she wanted it – added in to the fact that there was _no way in fucking hell_ he'd be leaving the country when Asbo was so wrapped into this mission of Roxy's. 

He wasn't just going to faff off with his own flesh and blood possibly at stake, now was he?

“Of course,” Harry agreed readily, which told Eggsy that he'd been hoping the offer would be rejected in the first place. _Silly fuckin' geezer_. “I shall leave the order as it stands, then.” Eggsy turned himself away from the sink as Harry disposed of everything in the bin, taking a moment to look the larger man over greedily.

He'd said it many a time before, but _fucking hell_ Harry was well-fit for his age. 

“In you get then.” Eggsy said with a wave of his hand toward the full tub, unconsciously taking in another deep lungful of the woody scent of the oil that Harry'd obviously added to the water. He contemplated whether this had been a ridiculous idea or not, before deciding to say _fuck it_ and roll with it anyways. Somehow, in the almost-year that they'd been living together, they'd not _once_ made use of the large tub together. _That's fuckin' criminal, that is_.

It was becoming more and more obvious that for all his years and worldly ways, there were a few things that Harry was completely inexperienced with, when it came to relationships. Eggsy wasn't sure if the thought should make him happy to be the first for _anything_ of Harry's, or sad for what that said about the man's happiness in previous times. 

“You ever shared a bath before?” He couldn't stop himself from asking, watching as Harry lowered himself in to the hot water to rest his back against the wall of the tub, his brow creasing in thought. 

“It happens occasionally on honeypots, particularly when the targets are women.” Eggsy couldn't help the look of distaste on his face at the word _honeypots_. 

“Not for _work_ , Harry. Doesn't count if it was with a _target_.” 

“Then I suppose that no, I have not.” Yep, _sad_ was definitely the emotion Eggsy was going to go with. _Jesus, Harry. For a professional fuckin' spy, you've hardly lived at all, ain't ya?_ He kept the thought to himself as he lowered into the bath carefully between Harry's outstretched legs, sighing in contentment as his back came against the larger man's firm chest. He knew that he wouldn't be comfortable for long that way, but decided to enjoy it while he could – it helped that Harry was keeping his arms laid across the rim of the tub, rather than wrapping them about Eggsy and making him feel trapped. 

Eggsy closed his eyes, finding peace in the steady rise and fall of their breathing and the occasional quiet swish of the water in the otherwise silent room. As much as he still stood by his reasons for leaving, he'd fucking _missed_ Harry, alright? It was nice to be able to feel their skin against each other, to just _be_. He probably could've easily fallen asleep that way, had it not been for the fact that there was much more he still wanted out of the night. 

After long moments, he forced himself to lean forward and grab the cloth and soap that Harry'd had the foresight to leave in the little holder that clung to the side of the tub. He turned himself carefully, using his knees to gently knock Harry's legs together so that Eggsy could instead face him and straddle his lap. 

Just because the tub was _capable_ of fitting two grown men, didn't mean that it was _easy_. 

He lathered up the cloth with what was clearly Harry's brand of soap, relishing the way that the humid air around them held that _sandalwood amber warmth_ scent that he'd come to love so much. He could see that Harry was watching him carefully as he brought the cloth to the man's own chest, and thought back to what he'd said in the front hall: _I don't know what I'm permitted to have_. 

It killed him sometimes, the fact that Harry was completely incapable of seeing how good a man he really was. 

“You're allowed to touch me, you know.” Harry's large hands immediately found his waist, and Eggsy realized that he'd been waiting for _permission_ to touch. In some ways, it almost felt like they were back at the beginning of it all, when Harry'd staunchly kept his hands to himself and Eggsy'd been too wrapped up in everything to realize that the older man had even _wanted_ to touch him in the first place. “While I appreciate that you ain't just _assumin'_ that bein' back in me good books means you're gonna get shagged, at the same time I don't really want us goin' back to you completely keepin' your hands off. Been sorta proud o' the progress I've made with that, yeah?” 

Harry nodded in understanding, Eggsy able to feel some tension leave the muscles he was busy wiping down with the cloth. Large palms slid up his bare back in a soothing glide, Harry's fingers gently exploring the raised skin of his newest scar and the tiny divots left behind by the freshly removed stitches. 

“I didn't want to presume...” 

“You never presume _anythin'_ , when it comes to that.” Eggsy laughed lightly, easily surrendering the cloth to Harry and allowing him to wash him in turn. He enjoyed the sensation for long, quiet moments, before deciding he'd made them both wait long enough.

“Harry?”

“Yes, dearest?”

“Take me to bed.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Consensual sexy-times ahoy

Harry was an honest enough man (with _himself_ , at least) that he could admit to having been hopeful that Eggsy would see fit to allow him to touch.

He'd been _hopeful_ , but he certainly hadn't been _expecting_ it. 

He positively _basked_ in the surprised bark of laughter that the smaller man gave out when Harry swooped him up into his arms the moment that their feet hit dry carpet; the bright and happy sound convinced Harry that it was well worth the strain to his back – Eggsy may be _smaller_ than Harry, but he was by no means _small_. 

He spared an absent thought to the fact that the traces of water and oil still upon their skin were going to leave horrendous marks upon the silk sheets, before he brushed away the concern – the sight of Eggsy, stretched out in long lines with his pale skin practically _glowing_ against the dark navy of the bedding, was of far more importance.

“I will never understand,” Harry murmured absently, smoothing a hand gently down the arch of Eggsy's throat, hearing the sharp gasp of breath that accompanied it. “what it is that I have done in this life to have been gifted with someone as lovely as you.” 

“ _Harry..._ ”

Unable to resist, Harry leaned down to press a kiss to the younger man's chest, feeling the rapid _thump_ of his heart just below his lips. He moved himself southward, the quiver of Eggsy's firm belly pulling a fond smile out of him as he pressed careful teeth to the skin just below his navel. It occurred to Harry suddenly that with Eggsy still on leave for the foreseeable future, there was for once no need to leave the skin stretched out below him perfectly unmarked. 

_Excellent_. 

There had always been a possessive little beast within Harry's chest – practically from the first – that had wanted to _keep_ Eggsy, to be able to call such a gorgeous creature _his_ and to leave proof of their bond writ all over the young man's pale skin. He usually suppressed such desires, partially because it'd been bred into him that such behaviour was unbecoming of one of his class, but also because Eggsy couldn't have such notable marks upon his skin when out on missions. 

Harry'd long ago made peace with the fact that he was a rather poor example of upper-class snobbery, and with Eggsy not currently on mission... well. It seemed there was no reason to refrain, was there?

Moving his lips to one sharp hipbone, Harry dug his teeth in – not too much, mind – and sucked until a dark purple mark bloomed, stark and _gorgeous_. That possessive beast positively _snarled_ in satisfaction, the breathless whimper sounding from above him only urging Harry to leave more. He went to the task practically like a man possessed, digging fingers into Eggsy's squirming waist as the young man arched below him, pressing hard and firm and oh-so-very _tempting_ against Harry's own body. 

“ _Harry!_ ” There was urgency to Eggsy's gasping voice, drawing his attention back up to whisper lips across the other man's ear.

“What do you need, my darling?” A shiver traced itself across the smaller body below him, making Harry flex his grip on the trim waist and ignoring the ache it brought to his fingers. 

“For the love of fuckin' Christ, _please Harry!_ ” Were he not so lost in his own head, Harry would have admonished himself as a bad, _bad_ man for what the sound of Eggsy _begging_ did to him, the way it brought a snarl to his face and a need to hear _more_. He practically ripped the drawer out of the night table in his eagerness to reach for the tube of slick, his usual care and hesitance all but forgotten. 

There had been a part of Harry that had always been _afraid_ when it came to sex with Eggsy – afraid that he would do or say the wrong thing, afraid that he would push too fast or too far, afraid that _he_ would be the cause of Eggsy's trauma making an appearance. He'd always been _careful_ on the occasions that the younger man was in the mood for intimacy, far more concerned about losing such a privilege than to ever dare risk giving way to the part of him that ached to just _claim_. 

He fought to keep his fingers gentle in such a delicate area, even as he dug teeth into the firm muscle of Eggsy's pectoral, feeling as though he was _losing his bloody mind_ at how hot and wonderful Eggsy's body always felt to him – the tight, desperate sounds coming from the young man's mouth doing _nothing_ to help Harry reclaim some sanity. 

Eggsy's breath was hot against Harry's shoulder, his mouth open and gasping against Harry's flesh as he pressed his fingers firmer, _further_ inside where he so _desperately_ wanted to be. There was a voice at the back of Harry's mind – the voice that usually caused him to hold back out of concern – that whispered that Harry was moving _too_ fast, being far too _rough_. That he was going to ruin everything if he didn't slow down. 

That Eggsy wouldn't _want_ him if he knew what kind of savage creature Harry could _really_ be. 

It was almost enough to make him stop – almost enough to drown out the louder voice that was endlessly repeating _mine mine mine he is MINE!_

Almost.

He twisted his fingers, pulling a harsh cry from Eggsy's throat, and Harry waited for the words he expected to come – waited for Eggsy to tell him _no, stop, what are you doing, why are you acting like this_.

He waited.

* * *

In the year they'd been together, Eggsy had never seen Harry quite so... _savage_. Or, at least, not when they were together in bed – pretty much _everyone_ knew around Kingsman what Harry could be capable of when it came to the job, what kind of lengths he could be willing to go, especially if Eggsy's safety was involved. 

But when they were together like this, Harry'd always been... _careful_. Gentle, _sweet_. Their first time together, Harry'd practically snarled ' _Mine!_ ', laying claim to Eggsy in a way that'd been both _unbearably_ hot and yet somehow still _perfect_... but he'd seemed to refrain from doing it since. 

Not that Eggsy was complaining about their sex life, mind. It was just... well, sometimes he wondered if maybe Harry'd been getting a bit _bored_ , you know? If maybe the fact that Eggsy's body could be unpredictable and just sort of _switch off_ sometimes had maybe been getting in the way. 

But _this_... this was fucking _amazing_. 

He relished the harsh dig of Harry's fingers into his skin, the way he could feel the areas that had known Harry's teeth practically fucking _throb_ in time with his heartbeat. The thought that he'd be covered in marks, in evidence of the other man's _need_ for him for days was almost enough to blow his head off. 

Eggsy pressed his burning hot forehead into Harry's shoulder, glancing blearily down between their bodies at the sound of a faint _clink_ , seeing the pendants that hung about both their necks laid together on Eggsy's chest from their closeness – Arthur's crest and Excalibur, side-by-side.

And that was right, wasn't it? Harry belonged to Eggsy just as much as Eggsy belonged to _Harry_. 

Letting the feeling wash over him, Eggsy raised his head just enough to dig his own teeth into the round of Harry's shoulder, tightening his grip on the larger man's back as he raised one knee to wrap around a thin hip. The harsh growl the move earned him only caused Eggsy to burn _hotter_. 

“Come on, come on, come on... _Harry. Please!_ ” He couldn't stop himself from begging, feeling the effect it had on the other, and relishing in the curious sense of _power_ that it gave him. When Harry finally came to him, it wasn't the usual slow and careful slide that Eggsy'd become accustomed to – no, instead it was a hard and deep thrust, making him sob at the sudden fullness and cling to Harry all the harder. 

He wanted _more_. Eggsy couldn't say where this _desperation_ had come from, all he knew was that he wanted to feel _owned_ by Harry, and he wanted it _now_. 

That was one word that Eggsy had never dared use out loud with the other man – given Eggsy's past and everything that had happened with Michaelson, Harry'd never been comfortable with the word 'own'. Eggsy figured that in Harry's mind it implied an imbalance of power or something between the two of them, but Eggsy hadn't ever really seen it that way – he was alright with it, despite everything he'd been through, probably _because_ of the fact that Harry never thought he had rights to Eggsy and his body that he shouldn't. 

He trusted Harry, and that made _all_ the difference. 

“ _Harder_ , Harry! Please, please wanna feel it tomorrow _please_!” He could actually _feel_ the harsh rumble in the other man's chest as he snarled and increased the force of his thrusts, causing Eggsy to gasp and cling all the more as the sensations trembled through him. 

Eggsy was lost to everything but the feeling of being stretched around Harry, of the sweat slicking their skin and the satisfying ache in his thighs, of Harry's harsh grunts of _want_ and effort, the sound of the other man's voice like thick smoke.

“ _Come for me, Eggsy..._ ”

Unable to deny him a thing, Eggsy's body locked up, squeezing harshly around Harry's solid form as his vision whited out and a cry tore itself from his throat. He hardly registered the low groan that the tightness pulled from Harry, or the sudden desperate increase to his thrusts. Eggsy gasped shakily, practically digging his nails into the larger man's back as he tried to find enough of his brain to form words.

“ _Harry..._ ” He sighed, pressing his forehead weakly into the curve of the other man's neck and breathing deeply of his scent. “Come on, Harry, come on... show me I'm yours, love... give me what I want...” 

“ _Mine!_ ” Eggsy felt the sting of Harry's teeth in the curve of his own neck just as the other man pressed himself as deep as he could go – he laid there, content to be surrounded by the larger form, feeling the hot throb of him within and clinging all the tighter as Harry shook. 

It was long moments before the pressure of the bite let up, Harry drawing in a deep breath as his grip on Eggsy loosened, though his face remained buried and hidden away. Eggsy eased his own grasp, feeling a pleasant ache in his hips as he lowered his legs and gentling his hold around Harry's back to give his wide shoulders a soothing stroke. 

“Are you... well?” Harry's voice was quiet and small, muffled slightly into Eggsy's skin. 

“I ain't ever been better in me life, love.” He said with a fond chuckle, surprised when Harry still refused to raise his head, causing a tendril of worry to wind its way through his after-glow. “...Harry? Everythin' alright?” 

“Was I not... too rough?” Eggsy blinked, wiggling a hand in-between his neck and Harry's forehead to press him up into view. Harry went easily, but seemed hesitant to meet Eggsy's gaze.

“ _Harry_. I'm fully capable of sayin' _no_ when I don't like somethin', and you _know_ that. Rather enjoyed meself, actually. Wouldn't mind you maybe doin' that a little more often, yeah?” Finally, the other man's gaze raised to meet Eggsy's own.

“You're certain?”

“Yeah, 'course I am.”

“...I've left you looking as though attacked by a wild beast.” Eggsy raised a challenging brow, wanting very much to laugh but recognizing that this seemed to be a genuine worry that the other man had. 

“Said I _liked_ it, didn't I? Ain't nothin' wrong with wearin' your marks, not to me.” He was gratified to see something dark and _possessive_ run through Harry's eyes at that, but he still seemed reluctant to take what Eggsy was saying at face-value. 

_Alright, time to show and not tell, then_. 

Making sure to aim low enough that it'd be covered by Harry's shirt collars, Eggsy dug his teeth into the other man's skin hard enough to leave a similar mark to what he now sported, feeling the the jolt that Harry's body gave and his harsh gasp of surprise. 

“ _Mine_.” Eggsy said in a low and dark voice as he released his grip, deliberately echoing Harry's own words. Finally, the other man seemed to ease, his worry momentarily abated.

“ _Yours_ , Eggsy...” He replied as he bent low to press their foreheads together, the tenderness of the gesture causing the younger man to swallow around a sudden welling of emotion.

_What will I do when we get old and you die on me, Harry?_ It was a morbid thought to have in that moment, perhaps, but it rose within him the determination to savour every second that they could possibly have together.

* * *

Harry was going to absolutely fucking _murder_ Merlin.

He and Eggsy had been laying about in bed for perhaps only _ten minutes_ when Harry's glasses beeped insistently from the now-crooked night table. They both glanced toward the noise, still covered in sweat and... _fluids_ , and then glanced at each other.

“No.” Harry said firmly, causing Eggsy to laugh.

“You're bloody _Arthur_ , you can't just ignore him.” 

“I can do whatever I fucking well _want_ , thank you.” Eggsy _tsk_ ed at him, though he still had an amused grin on his face, as he reached over Harry's prone form to retrieve the glasses and put them in place on the bridge of Harry's nose.

“ _So sorry to interrupt what is obviously involving a lot of nudity_ ,” Merlin's tone was dry, but Harry could hear an underlying current of seriousness. “ _but we've gotten some information on Lancelot's case that I think you should come in for. After a shower, preferably_.” Harry scowled, and Eggsy raised a brow at his expression, though obviously being unable to hear the Quartermaster's side of the conversation.

“I'll be there soon.” 

“ _We'll_ be there soon.” Eggsy's voice was threatening a stubborn edge, and Harry decided not to fight him on it. He sighed.

“Yes, _we'll_ be there soon.” 

“ _You are positively whipped, I hope you know that_.” 

“Piss off, Merlin.” He folded up the glasses and tossed them to the night table petulantly, glancing in Eggsy's direction to see a curiously _fond_ expression on the young man's face. 

“To the shower, then?”

“I suppose so.” Harry replied with a sigh, flexing hands that were obviously _not_ happy with the amount of activity they'd gotten, Eggsy's gaze going narrowed and sharp as he caught the movement. “Would you mind fetching two of the painkillers from the cabinet while I get the water running, darling?” It was harder than Harry wanted to admit, making such a request and acknowledging to the young man that he was in pain, but ultimately worth it for the firm press of Eggsy's lips to his own that the admission garnered him. 

“Sure thing, love.” 

They arrived at the mansion not long after, freshly showered and in comfortable clothing – Merlin had called them in at nearly half-nine at _night_ , for fuck's sake, so he could bloody well take them the way they came. Harry was somewhat surprised upon their arrival at Arthur's sitting rooms to see that both Asbo and Mina were in attendance in addition to Merlin and Roxy. 

“...Are you fuckin' _serious_ , bruv.” Harry frowned in confusion as Asbo regarded Eggsy with a disturbed look, uncertain what the comment was supposed to be in reference to, seeing as they'd only _just_ come through the door and Eggsy'd done little more than remove his track jacket. Eggsy himself seemed to understand just fine, giving his cousin a cheeky wink while Mina let out a surprised giggle. 

“Things about my boss I _really_ didn't need to know...” Roxy muttered under her breath, causing Eggsy to burst out laughing, and Harry's confusion cleared in a moment of absolute _mortification_ as he saw that by the removal of the hooded jacket, the bite mark that Harry had left on the younger man's throat was perfectly on display above the collar of his long-sleeved tee. 

All the spy training in the _world_ could not prevent the faint heating of Harry's cheeks in embarrassment, as he raised a hand to cover his face. 

“Tea, Arthur?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Harry'd changed his mind – he _wasn't_ going to kill Merlin. Merlin was officially the only person in the room that he liked anymore. Merlin was _wonderful_. 

Pasting on a bland and composed expression, Harry sat himself in his usual armchair and resolved to ignore the sniggering of the others. He was an _adult_ , for fuck's sake. 

“What's the emergency, then?”


	17. Chapter 17

Since Harry'd settled in his usual armchair, Eggsy squeezed himself onto the settee with Dennis and Mina, smacking his cousin's prodding finger away from the bite mark on his neck with a laugh. 

“Remember when I said _not_ ta give me the fuckin' details?” Asbo muttered in an undertone while Mina shifted to stretch out across the both of them. Eggsy smirked at him while wrapping warm hands around the tiny but cold feet now in his lap. 

“I ain't makin' you _look_ , bruv.” 

“If you lads are quite done whispering over there.” Merlin's voice was grumpy – which wasn't altogether out of the norm for the Quartermaster – but his face was showing clear exhaustion that told Eggsy it'd be best to take some pity on him. 

“Sorry, Merlin.” 

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. The facts as we know them: One – our mark, Adam DeKant, is a member of the exclusive and highly secretive _Diogenes Club_. Two – the disappearance of our young lady from the warehouse has obviously been noted; though Lancelot's set-up to make it look as though Mina escaped on her own was certainly a believable one, it appears that our mark is of a rather suspicious nature.” Eggsy snorted softly, thinking to himself that most criminals _had_ to be 'of a suspicious nature', elsewise they didn't last overly long in the business, now did they?

“I think it very likely that he's on the verge of making a run for it,” Merlin continued. “which brings us to our last point. Three – the fact that the Club caters only to well-connected men of the upper class, meaning that we willna be able to use Lancelot for infiltration of it if we aim to observe the bastard.” Eggsy's brow pulled into a concentrated frown.

“So we need a man capable of playing the posh twat.” He mused, mentally reviewing Harry's list of available agents (which he absolutely hadn't looked at and memorized... not at _all_ ), but quickly realizing that there wasn't anyone easily accessible but _himself_ – they were still, even almost two years later, feeling the strains of repairing Valentine's bloody meddling. “So when should I suit-up?” Merlin was already shaking his head before Eggsy'd even finished the sentence.

“Afraid not, lad. The fact that you're still on medical leave aside, you're far too young for their usual – you'd stick out for that alone, no matter how well you've gotten at suppressing that accent of yours.” 

“But we don't – ” Eggsy cut himself off abruptly, realizing where Merlin was going with it. “You want Harry.” 

“He's the right demographic to fit in, aye. My contact with the Club is eager to get this sorted out, and is able to get Harry in with no questions asked.” 

“But... Harry don't go out on missions anymore.” He argued, feeling his shoulders go tight with tension but unable to stop the slight bite to his tone. “Don't you think it's maybe a bad fuckin' idea to be puttin' our _leader_ out there ta be risked?” 

“From what I been hearin', your man can watch his own back just fine, bruv.” Eggsy blinked, head snapping around to regard his cousin in surprise. “...'sides, it's just some fuckin' posh tea club or whatever, how dangerous could it really be?” 

“...You're a fuckin' _moron_.” Eggsy continued to gape at Asbo in disbelief. “Ain't you ever seen a single fuckin' Bond movie?! _How dangerous could it be_ , he says! You've just bloody well jinxed us you fuckin' prick!” Dennis snorted a laugh, twisting the end of Mina's long plait around his hand absentmindedly, apparently completely at ease.

“You're bein' a drama queen, Eggs.”

“ _Denny_.” Mina's voice was scolding, and she tilted her head back against his shoulder to regard her friend upside-down with a scowl. “He's genuinely worried, don't be a dick.” 

“Sorry.”

“I will be _fine_ , Eggsy.” Harry's voice was calm, with just the barest hint of amusement. Eggsy turned his scowl Harry's way, mentally grasping for _any_ argument he could make against it whatsoever, but coming up frustratingly blank. “I've been in this business for thirty years, one early morning drinking tea and doing a bit of recon will hardly be the end of me.” 

“This is soundin' suspiciously like _I'll sort this mess out when I get back_.” As soon as the words left him, Eggsy wanted to pull them back and pretend they'd never seen the light of day. 

Any amusement that Harry _had_ been finding in the situation vanished, and even the other occupants of the room seemed to feel the change despite not knowing what he was referring to – oh sure, Merlin and Roxy knew that he and Harry'd had a fight just before Kentucky, but Eggsy'd never told them the _particulars_ of that fight... that was between him and Harry alone, far as he'd been concerned, even just after when he'd still thought Harry dead. 

Eggsy swallowed heavily, biting down on his tongue as his ears practically rang with the expectant silence of the room. _You fuckin' idiot, why'd you have ta go and bring **that** up?_ A small protesting squeak from Mina made him realize that he'd unconsciously tightened his grip around her ankle, fingers digging in harshly with his upset. 

“ _Fuck_. Sorry, sorry...” He let go immediately, hands hovering awkwardly in the air as he suddenly had no idea where to put them. He forced himself to take a breath when she instead took his hands in her own, looking at him with obvious concern. 

“It's fine.” She said soothingly, giving his fingers a bit of a squeeze. After long moments of silence where clearly _no one_ had any fucking idea of what to say, Harry's even tones finally broke in. 

“We could perhaps discuss your concerns at a later time.” Eggsy let out a breath, knowing that the other man was right to be handling the situation from a _professional_ level; reality was that it was Harry's call as _Arthur_ at the end of the day that mattered, and being just an agent Eggsy would have to suck it up and deal with it. 

“Yeah.”

* * *

Harry's initial reaction to Eggsy's vehemence had been a pique of ego – he was still _more_ than capable, a bullet to the head had failed to bring him down, after all – but that had quickly dissolved under the warmth and amusement that the young man's concern for him brought about. Eggsy was such a loving and caring creature, at the heart of it all. 

Any amusement fled at his next statement, however – the reminder of what had so very nearly become his final words to Eggsy had cold and dread creeping into his chest, momentarily stealing his breath. 

_I'll sort this mess out when I get back_. 

Only, he nearly _hadn't_ come back, had he? For a good few months there, Eggsy'd certainly been left with the impression that he wouldn't _ever_ – Harry didn't think he'd ever truly forgive himself for leaving the poor boy to believe him dead for so long. It was something Eggsy himself hadn't quite forgiven him for, subconsciously, if the surprise on his face over his own words was any indication. 

He was relieved when the young man agreed to hash out their personal feelings at a later time, knowing that they needed to get on with things tonight if he was to make that early appointment well-prepared. 

“Merlin. The details, if you please.” 

It was shaping up to be a fairly standard bought of reconnaissance; Harry would enter the club first thing in the morning and take up a place by which to watch their target – the rules of the club which enforced complete silence meant that he wouldn't have to interact or make small-talk with anyone, he would simply have the luxury to sit and observe. 

Miss Mina provided them with some details that she'd taken note of while in captivity, namely the fact that their target seemed to suffer acute mysophobia – according to her, he'd carried a bottle of sanitizing gel every time he'd visited the warehouse, and had refused to touch anyone or anything within the building, on account of them being 'filthy'. It was a possible weakness to take advantage of, certainly. 

Thankfully, the simplicity of the plan meant that they were free to retire for the evening at nearly half-ten, Harry and Eggsy deciding to make use of Harry's old room in the mansion rather than waste time on the trip back to London. 

“Eggsy...” Harry sighed resignedly, whilst pulling on some spare pyjamas. The young man in question had opted for merely stripping down to his pants and collapsing face-first onto the sheets. 

“I know, alright. I know – you's Arthur and I shouldn't be questionin' ya or anythin', especially 'cos I'm just an agent.” His voice was slightly muffled by the pillow he was buried in, but Harry could hear him well enough. 

“Though that may be true under our professional circumstances, that doesn't mean that you aren't permitted to have an opinion _at all_. That doesn't mean that I won't hear your concerns privately.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry wedged a hand beneath Eggsy's stomach and pulled to force him to turn face-up, enabling him to see the trepidation so clearly in the boy's expression.

“I just got a bad feelin', Harry.” The fear in those gorgeous eyes made his heart clench. 

“In this line of work, trusting your instincts is quite often the only way to survive. _However_ ,” He raised his voice slightly when Eggsy opened his mouth to argue, dropping it back to an even tone when the boy immediately closed it again. “sometimes we aren't given the luxury of acting upon those instincts. Sometimes we must force ourselves to do what must be done, _despite_ them.” 

“I shouldn't've said what I did. Earlier.” 

“I'm not angry, and I certainly don't blame you for it.” 

“It's just... I had the same bad feelin', back then. When we was fightin' and then you left.” His face was open and soft, mournful in a way that made Harry want to wrap him in warm blankets and never let another moment of sadness touch him again. 

“I won't promise you that everything will be alright, because you and I both know enough of this world to know that sometimes that can be a lie. But I _will_ promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep myself as safe as possible in order to return home to you. I admit, I don't see anything about tomorrow's plan to feel this much concern over, but nevertheless you _are_ concerned and I would never seek to discredit your feelings.”

After a moment, Eggsy nodded his head in acceptance, though clearly it was still very reluctant. Harry pulled aside the bedding to slip underneath tiredly, fondness bringing a small smile to his face as Eggsy wiggled half-heartedly until he was somewhat covered as well. 

“Night, Harry.” 

“Goodnight, my dear.” 

There was a faint _clink_ from the pendant around Eggsy's neck as he settled onto his side, the last sound for the room to hear before it was filled with only their quiet breathing.

* * *

“Would you listen at all if I said 'no'?” Merlin sighed resignedly as Eggsy settled himself into the chair he'd just dragged over to the Quartermaster's desk. 

“Not a fuckin' chance, bruv.” 

“I thought so.” Silence fell between them as Eggsy kicked his feet up on the desk, winged trainers a stark contrast to the gunmetal grey of the surface they rested on. He mutely passed a mug of coffee to Merlin while taking a fortifying sip from his own. 

“Who in their right mind goes to drink tea at a fuckin' club at _half-fuckin'-six in the mornin'_?” He muttered after a few moments of caffeine infusion, brain slowly coming online. Merlin chuckled, leaning back a bit more comfortably in his seat.

“Keep in mind, lad – most of the members of the Diogenes Club are high-ranking figures in government, as well as some even belonging to the House of Lords. It isna beyond comprehension that they'd be looking for a moment's peace and silence before setting out for their work day.” Eggsy tilted his head, acknowledging that it was probably a valid point. 

On the screens in front of them, Eggsy could _just_ make out the long lines of Harry's legs in his sharp as fuck tailored trousers past the edge of the newspaper that the other gent was pretending to read. The Kingsman glasses were doing a good job of showing the room around him, the same pretentious dark woods and old leather that the Kingsman mansion had. The whole thing just screamed _we have money and are better than you in every way_ , and Eggsy wondered bitterly if Chester had ever been a member.

Seemed like his kind of place, after all. 

“Target has just entered to your right, Arthur.” Harry's body subtly shifted, giving Merlin a slightly clearer view as their man settled into a chair just across and to the right of Harry's own. While they watched, DeKant pulled out a small bottle of sanitizing gel, liberally dousing his hands and rubbing it in before accepting the newspaper being proffered by a liveried waiter... or... butler. _Valet_. Whatever. 

Eggsy's eyes narrowed at the screen as their mark took a seemingly casual look about the room, darting forward to snatch the microphone before Merlin could stop him.

“ _Excalibur!_ ” He hissed, but Eggsy had already depressed the button to speak.

“Arthur.” He knew that given the silence the occupants of the room were expected to keep that Harry wouldn't even be able to answer him on the sly, but Eggsy figured he could still relay what he'd seen. “Look, call me fuckin' paranoid or whatever later, but I swear to fuckin' Christ he was givin' ya a much harder look than he did the others. Could be 'cos you's a new face to him or not, I dunno. Just watch yourself, alright?” He didn't even blink as Merlin snatched the microphone back away from him, eyes anxiously caught on the screens. 

One of Harry's long fingers holding the edge of the newspaper shifted slightly, almost as if pointing to a spot in the print on the page. Eggsy tilted his head, realizing that Harry was pointing to the word _yes_. Letting out a relieved breath, he sat back again and ignored Merlin's scowl. 

The next few hours of recon were – to be fully honest – _boring as fuck_. 

Eggsy could actually feel himself almost falling asleep by the time that DeKant set aside his paper and tea cup, once again sanitizing the _shit_ out of his hands, and rose to leave the room. Ever the professional, Harry waited a few moments before casually getting himself in order to leave as well, Merlin following their mark as well as he could through CCTV footage in order to direct Harry on where to follow. 

Blinking himself back into full wakefulness, Eggsy tried to keep a sharp eye on both the CCTV footage and the feed from Harry's glasses, determined to watch his man's back even if no one else seemed to think he needed it. They followed DeKant as he went about his business, giving Merlin a whole bunch of other places and things to investigate, but by the time the Quartermaster called Harry back in Eggsy was left feeling anxious and wrong-footed. 

Not a single thing had happened to justify his paranoia, and it was causing him to start second-guessing himself. Was he maybe overreacting after all? 

Pushing the thoughts aside, Eggsy decided to focus instead on the relieving thought that – barring having to return to the Club, of course – there was no longer any reason for Harry to be out in the field. He was returning to his office, to sit behind his fucking desk and do paperwork where he'd be _safe_. 

And yes, he was perfectly aware of how much of a hypocrite he was being, tah very much. 

A fact that Harry very kindly kept to himself, Eggsy noted, when they met up in his office upon his return to the mansion grounds, a rueful but amused smile gracing his handsome face. 

“ _Shut up_.” Eggsy muttered, though Harry hadn't said a word. 

“I've rather had my fill of silence this morning, if you don't mind. How those men can stand that for hours on end every day is beyond me.” Eggsy snorted a laugh, relishing the look of surprise on Harry's face when he dropped himself down into the larger man's lap for a cuddle. 

He felt the warmth of Harry's sighing breath against his forehead just before the man's arms came around him, resting lightly against his hip and back. _Always so careful with me_ , he thought. _I ain't nearly as careful with you as I should be, am I_. 

“You think 'm bein' stupid, don't ya.”

“Of course not. I said as much last night, I would never discredit your feelings in such a way – what do you suppose goes through _my_ head every time that I must send _you_ out?”

“Fair point.” A shiver traced its way over his frame as Harry gently pressed a thumb against the bite mark on Eggsy's neck, like he didn't even know he was doing it. “Hey, Harry?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“I love ya. Just... don't forget it, alright?”


	18. Chapter 18

“Now _really_ , Your Highness.” 

Harry sighed resignedly as wide doe eyes began to water, accepting his fate. He nestled his half-finished cup of tea back in its saucer, setting the lot on the low table with a soft _clink_ before holding out a hand and standing from his comfortable seat on the settee. 

“Very well, I suppose. Let's get our kit on for a walk then, Little Flower.” The threat of tears died instantly as a triumphant smile emerged, and he mused that Daisy must have been getting tips on just how to wrap Harry around her little finger from her brother. “But this means that you _must_ go to bed on time tonight, my dear – no dawdling or trying to stay up.”

“ _Okaaaay_.” He tried and failed to suppress a smile, assisting the little girl in getting into her favourite pair of lime-green trainers that clashed horribly with the dark navy of her dress.

_She reminds me so much of Eggsy_ , he thought with fondness, _it is so very easy to see that he's the one who's raised her_. 

Once he deemed them appropriately attired, they set out for the shop around the corner, Daisy singing something cheery but nonsensical whilst she swung their clasped hands back and forth. The air was crisp, but thankfully not as chilled as it usually was for that time of year, and Harry took a moment to enjoy the peacefulness that fell upon him.

It was their turn to have Daisy overnight, giving Michelle the chance to go out to a Hen Party for a friend of hers, and the little girl had been quite insistent that they needed to have snacks to go with the board game they were to play once Eggsy returned home from his errand – something about Asbo asking him to escort Mrs Severs home from a doctor's appointment, he thought.

“Puppy!” The young lady approaching them from the opposite direction huffed a breath as the large shepherd she was walking pulled on its leash, tail beginning to wag happily at the sight of Daisy's eagerly bouncing figure. 

“Now, Daisy...” Harry said sternly as he tightened his grasp, preventing her from dashing forward. “We mustn't just _run_ up to strange animals to touch them, they may not like it. You must ask the owner's permission first, my dear.” The young lady gave him a tired looking smile as she drew the large dog to a halt, her muttered command of _sit_ being readily obeyed. _So the dog is at least marginally trained, then_. 

“It's alright, Sir. He's a friendly beast, I promise.” 

“See? It's okay, Ri-Ri!” Harry huffed a quiet laugh, the now-familiar nickname causing him to smile as it always did. When Daisy had first been learning to speak, she'd struggled with Harry's name and had most often merely referred to him as _'ry_ – somehow that had devolved into _Ri-Ri_ , and even as her vocabulary progressed, the little girl had apparently seen no reason to change it. 

“Slowly and _gently_ , then. You must be careful not to hurt him, dearest.” He watched with a sharp eye as Daisy slowly moved forward to pet the dog, patting him lightly on top of his head and causing his tail to thump all the more. 

“Bigger than JB.” She muttered, and Harry couldn't help his amused chuckle.

“Most are, Flower.” At the young lady's curious look, he explained. “We have a pug at home.” She laughed lightly in return, grinning down at Daisy.

“He's a bit of a larger boy than you're used to, yeah? You gotta be careful around the big dogs, okay love? Just like your grandaddy said.” Harry felt the smile freeze slightly on his face, as Daisy glanced up at the girl in confusion.

“Don't gots a grandad. Ri-Ri's my big bruva.” He blinked in surprise at the words – they'd never really discussed Harry's relation to her before, as Daisy had never asked them about it. The young lady glanced between them, looking utterly mortified.

“Oh my _god_ , I'm so sorry! I just thought... Um, never mind.” Harry gave her a smile, though it felt pressed and hollow. 

“Quite alright. An understandable mistake; please don't trouble yourself.” He turned to glance down at Daisy, who had easily gone back to happily patting the dog. “Shall we continue on, dearest? We don't want to be late.” Some of his amusement returned with how obviously reluctant the little girl was to leave the creature behind, but she gamely nodded in agreement all the same. “Do excuse us, miss. Thank you for allowing her to pet him.”

“Oh, of course. Not a trouble at all!” 

“Have a lovely afternoon.” 

The corner shop was relatively quiet, only a couple of other customers milling about and the young man behind the counter occupied with lazily flipping through what looked like a school book while he waited for someone to make a purchase. Harry allowed himself to be pulled directly to the shelves housing all of the crisps and candies, anticipating that he was about to be saying the word _no_ quite a bit. 

“Ri-Ri?” Harry blinked in surprise, Daisy's voice lacking its usual bubbliness. 

“Yes, Your Highness?” 

“Why'd the lady think you were my grandad?” Keeping his resigned sigh silent, Harry knelt down so that he could be on her level for what was obviously going to be a serious conversation. 

“Because I'm much, _much_ older than you, darling. I'm old enough that I _could_ have had grandchildren your age.”

“Like how people think Eggsy's my daddy a lot?” 

“Yes, just like that.” Her little face screwed up in thought.

“Is it weird then? People act like it's weird.” _Oh dear... Where's Eggsy when I need him?_ Harry thought with a flutter of internal panic. He was probably going to royally bollocks the conversation, but it didn't appear as though he had a choice. 

“Well... A lot of people when they have children tend to have them close together, so there isn't much of a gap between their ages. That didn't happen when it came to your mother having you and Eggsy, and there's _nothing_ strange about that, darling. It isn't _weird_ , it's just not what most people are accustomed to, I suppose.”

“So we're not strange?”

“No, darling.”

“So... it's like we're more specialer than others.” Harry was unable to contain his smile. 

“Yes, you are certainly more _special_. 'Specialer' isn't a proper word, Flower.” She nodded, seemingly assured of her status as unique, before frowning in thought once again. 

“But what about you 'n Eggsy? People act like _that's_ weird, too.” _Fuck_. Harry's mind scrambled for what to say, how to explain such a thing to a young child. 

“Well, darling... You know that Eggsy and I love each other very much, and for us that's the most important thing. But some people... some people see how much older I am than him, and they assume things.”

“Like what?”

“Like... they think that maybe I like keeping him around just because he's younger and handsome. Or, they think that I'm tricking him into spending time with me when he really doesn't want to. Some people look at it the other way around, and think that Eggsy stays with me because he likes my money more than he likes me.” 

“That's stupid.” Harry huffed a small laugh.

“Sometimes people see the fact that I am old enough that I could have had children the same age as Eggsy, and they think that it's wrong for us to be together because of that. Unfortunately we can't control what other people think, but in the end it doesn't really matter anyways – we _know_ that we are together because we love each other, you and your mother and all of our friends know that as well.”

“And we're the 'portant ones?”

“Yes, you are the important ones. Eggsy was a grown-up before we really got to know each other, and that meant that he was old enough to make the decision to be with me for himself. What _we_ think matters, and what _you_ think matters, and no-one else does.”

“Okay.”

“Might I ask _you_ a question, Your Highness?” He waited until she nodded her head, unable to help the his fond smile. “You told the lady that I was your 'big brother'... You've never asked myself or Eggsy what to call me before, might I ask why you chose that?”

“Is it wrong? Mum said that since Eggsy's my bruva, that meant that when you's got married _you'd_ be my bruva too. Do I hafta wait until you's have a weddin', Ri-Ri?” Harry waited for his heart to restart after a momentary lapse at the words _married_ and _wedding_ , mentally giving himself a shake when it was obvious that she was still waiting for a response. 

“Of course it's not wrong, darling. You may refer to me any way that you wish; I merely wanted to make certain that you were _alright_ with calling me that.” He wasn't going to touch the _rest_ of her statement with a ten-foot pole until he'd given the matter _much_ more thought.

“Okay. Can we get Nando's for supper?”

It was nearly fifteen minutes later – after much deliberation over what would make the _best_ snack to accompany Nando's – that they stepped out of the shop and almost ran bodily into none other than Eggsy himself, the hood of his track jacket pulled up against the steadily increasing chill. 

“Oi! If it ain't the two _prettiest_ people on the planet!” Eggsy scooped his sister up into his arms, giving her a noisily smacking kiss whilst she giggled in delight, and he was secretly glad that when the young man turned to give Harry his own kiss, it was a much gentler affair accompanied by a soft “Hello, luv.”

It was perhaps understandable that with such a distraction, Harry didn't notice the faint glimmer across the street of sunlight hitting a camera lens, nor the subtle _click_ of the shutter closing with a photo.

* * *

“What spoils have me two best hunters found, then?” Eggsy grinned as Daisy stuck out her tongue at him, shifting his grip on her slightly to be more comfortable while Harry chuckled. 

“Whispa Golds, Black Jacks, and some Dolly mix.” He pulled a disgusted face, looking down at his little flower.

“Yer an odd kid, you know that, luv?”

“Ri-Ri says I'm special.” She replied easily, clearly thinking that Harry's opinion of her was much more important than Eggsy's own, making him laugh in delight. 

“Must be true, then. I'll take the Golds, tah very much.”

“I thought you might.” Harry said with a rueful twist to his lips. “We've also gotten a formal request for Nando's.” Eggsy turned narrowed eyes to his innocently blinking sister.

“Oh we _have_ , have we.” 

“Ri-Ri _said_ we could!” 

“Bloody hell, mum's gonna have me hide for all this junk. You better brush them teeth _extra_ good tonight, my girl.” He couldn't help grinning when she crowed in victory, sliding his free hand into Harry's and setting off down the walk for home. 

“And how was your errand?” Harry's tone was easy, but Eggsy noted that his hand shook very slightly and eased his grasp a touch. _Joints must be actin' up_. 

“Good, yeah. Auntie Rae'd just had a check-up, so wasn't nothin' serious or anythin'. Asbo was still on shift and don't like her goin' out on her own at this time o' day, so I said I'd run over and fetch her. Think he headed to the Shop soon as he got off so's he can keep Mina company.”

“How _is_ our guest doing?” Eggsy threw the other man a smug look.

“Got her in ta see Gaius for awhile today.” 

“Did you? Very well done, my dear. I'm sure that will be enormously helpful for her.” He winked with a smile, thinking that it had been that, indeed. When he'd asked her if she'd be alright being left alone for an hour or so until Dennis would have the chance to come in, she'd seemed totally calm and content – it was such great progress, especially for so short an amount of time; Eggsy was so damn proud of her.

“Who's Mina?” Daisy's voice was a bit muffled, seeing as she'd wriggled the top of her head into his hood in order to press her cold nose against his neck. 

“A friend of our cousin Dennis, luv. You remember him?”

“The fireman?”

“Yeah, the fireman. Mina's his friend that's stayin' at the big house for awhile. Maybe I'll bring ya with me tomorrow and you can meet her, if ya want.”

“Okay.” 

“I'll be heading in early tomorrow, I'm afraid.” Harry murmured, giving Eggsy's hand a gentle squeeze. “I'd like to discuss our next steps with Merlin, as well as see if I can't catch up on the stack of requisitions from R&D.”

“Alright. I'll probably bring the poppet by a bit later in the mornin', then. After breakfast, like.” 

Their night was a good one, which Eggsy was grateful for, considering everything that had been going on in the last while. They played a few rounds of a board game that Eggsy'd managed to bring back with him the last time he'd been sent to Poland, and enjoyed their little treats. Harry'd seemed a bit distracted the whole time, but Eggsy supposed he couldn't really blame him – he knew that Roxy's case was weighing heavily on Harry's mind, so he assumed that was probably what was occupying his thoughts. 

He raised a brow in disbelief when Daisy obediently went to bed when told, rather than trying to bargain to stay up later like she usually did, until she let slip that Harry'd only agreed to take her for sweets if she went to bed on time. _We're really gonna have ta talk about Harry's habit of **bribin'** her into bein' good_.

“Somethin' on your mind, luv?” Harry blinked, turning back to where Eggsy was already sprawled on the bed as he finished pulling on his pyjamas. “You just seem distracted or somethin', is all.”

“Oh, it's nothing, dearest.” Before Eggsy could say a word, Harry _tsk_ ed at himself in reproach for defaulting to answering ' _nothing_ '. “Apologies. I am merely contemplating something that Daisy said earlier.”

“What'd she say?” Harry stayed quiet while he pulled back the covers on his side of the bed, and Eggsy gave him a minute to get his thoughts sorted.

“She referred to me earlier as her 'brother'; I questioned her on why she chose to do so – to my knowledge, she's never asked either of us about such a thing before – and I was curious.”

Eggsy could feel himself tense slightly; did Harry not _like_ her calling him that? He could understand if maybe the older man felt a bit strange about a babe just out of her nappies calling him _brother_ , when she was easily the age that Harry's _grandchildren_ should've been (if he'd _had_ any, that is) – but Harry'd always treated Daisy like family, so Eggsy wasn't altogether certain about that.

“An' what'd she say to that?”

“She explained that your mother had informed her that since _you_ were her brother, were we to ever wed I would also then become her brother; she apparently didn't feel the need for some sort of ceremony to use the term.”

Eggsy felt like every bit of his being came to a screeching halt. A _wedding_? He blinked in surprise, glad that Harry was still fussing with the bedding and not actually looking at him.

“Oh. Well, whatever she likes, I suppose.” He said faintly, his last functioning brain cell apparently realizing that had been a statement that needed some kind of fucking response.

“Yes, I quite told her the same.” Eggsy could hear the older man's jaw crack with his yawn as he shut off the night table lamp. “Goodnight, dearest.”

“...'Night.”

Eggsy stared up at the ceiling in the reigning darkness, any hope of sleep in the near future _completely fucking gone_. 

A wedding. Marriage. Being _married_ to Harry. Somehow, in all the time they'd been together, he'd never given it one second of a thought – it'd always seemed enough to just... _be_ with Harry. He hadn't been about to get greedy and think about _more_. 

When he'd been released from Holborn and they'd gone for their drink at the Black Prince, he'd made the nasty assumption that Harry was looking for a bit of _appreciation_ for the favour he'd just done, and that the gent probably had some lush of a disappointed trophy wife back home fucking the gardener. 

His less-than-favourable thoughts had been pitched after watching Harry beat the ever-loving _fuck_ out of Dean's peons, and they'd turned instead more to _Fuckin' Christ, whatever bint bagged him don't know how lucky she is_. Even through the early days of his candidacy, he'd wondered – Harry never mentioned a wife or whatever, but then again Harry never talked much about himself at _all_. When he'd gone down with the coma after confronting Professor Arnold, Eggsy'd sort of broken down one day and actually asked Merlin if Harry's wife just weren't _allowed_ to come see him or summat. 

He'd found himself a bit surprised when Merlin'd grumpily told him that Harry didn't _have_ a wife, and _Get back to your barracks before I fail you on your next exam_. Eggsy'd been surprised to hear it, and maybe even a bit relieved, even if he hadn't quite admitted to himself back then what his complicated feelings for Harry meant. 

Then things had gotten so fucking _busy_ that he hadn't given it another thought – Kentucky, Valentine, Harry turning up _alive_ , Michaelson and just the shear amount of _work_ there still was to be done in the world. 

Harry'd never mentioned anything about _marriage_ , either. Eggsy'd just figured he was happy with them living and working together, and that was that. Of course, it hadn't _really_ been Harry that brought it up this time – he'd plainly just been repeating what Daisy'd told him, which she'd gotten from his mum.

Did that mean his mum was gonna have Harry's bollocks if they _didn't_ get married?

And what was being married _really_ , anyways? Live together, check. Share a bed, check. Have sex (for those who do), check. Love each other, check. Be exclusive (if that's the type of people you are), check. Go out together, check. 

In a lot of ways, at it's most basic terms, weren't they sort of _already_ married? Seemed to him the only bit they were missing out on was the fucking wedding, yeah? And was that _really_ that big of a deal? Eggsy'd never been the type to get too excited about all that kind of thing – most of it was just a money grab anyways; who in their right mind paid £500 just for some fucking _cake_?

Harry rolled over suddenly in his sleep, throwing a careless arm over Eggsy's stomach and pressing his cheek into his shoulder, warm breath washing evenly over Eggsy's bare skin. A memory surfaced, of the older man lecturing him that long ago night of their twenty-four hours after the train test. 

_Birth, Marriage, Death_.

No, Eggsy didn't fuss much for weddings... But what about _Harry_? He laid there, feeling the weight of the head on his shoulder and the breath on his skin, and decided to push the thoughts aside.

Something to think about a different day, maybe. 

* * *

They rose together the next morning, Harry taking only the time for tea and toast whilst Eggsy set about preparing something rather more filling for himself and Daisy, sneaking a kiss from him before setting off out the door to head to the Shop. 

It was still early yet, and he quite enjoyed the brisk walk to Savile Row, pausing a block or two away from his destination when he saw a familiar form appear. 

“Good morning, Asbo. Off to Mile End for work?” The sullen young man merely shook his head, but stopped to speak once he'd reached where Harry waited. 

“Nah, guv. Not on shift today. Thought I'd pop home and get some more clean clothes and stuff for Mina.” Harry blinked in surprise, a bit ashamed that he hadn't thought of such a thing.

“We'd be more than happy to have our tailors make some things for her, if it would save you some trouble.”

“Cheers, but Eggs says that havin' stuff o' mine helps her.” Harry nodded in understanding, opening his mouth to reply. 

Before he could, however, he noticed Asbo's gaze flick to behind him, the boy's eyes widening in shock. He felt the prick of a dart in his neck, the world going fuzzy at the edges as he felt himself slump to the ground.

The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness completely was a similar dart lodge itself in the boy's own neck, his stockier frame hitting the pavement hard beside Harry.

Then the world went black, and Harry knew no more.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Depictions of panic attack / someone going into mental shock

“Alright, my girl – show me them teeth.” Eggsy waited as Daisy grinned up at him, seeing that she'd done a passable job on cleaning them. “Cheers, gorgeous. Now let's get on your jacket, yeah? There's a bit of a nip outside today.” 

As he turned to grab her vibrant purple jacket from the peg near the door, he spotted a tortoiseshell pair of Kingsman glasses folded neatly on the antique sideboard. “Goddamn it, Harry.” He sighed, hastily shoving them into his pocket and mentally chastising the older gent for forgetting them. _Again_. Ah well, just gave him an excuse to bug Harry in his office when they got to HQ, he supposed. 

Their trip to the Mansion was largely uneventful, given that Eggsy'd just called up one of the Kingsman cabs to fetch them and drop them at the Shop; Harry was fond of making the almost hour-long walk between the Mews and the tailor's (which Eggsy'd first learned the morning after the train test when they'd meandered their way there for his suit fitting), but most days Eggsy preferred to get the trip over with as quickly as possible – especially when accompanied by an easily-bored toddler. 

“Want cream cakes.” Eggsy rolled his eyes to the ceiling as they finally exited the bullet train, wondering if this was the kind of nonsense that his poor mum had dealt with when _he_ was Daisy's age. Then again, his dad had still been alive at that point, so... who knew, really. 

“You can't have cream cakes, Flower. It's only half-nine in the mornin'.”

“Why not?” 

“...'Cos it ain't good fer ya, luv.”

“Why?”

“Your teeth'll rot outta your head.”

“Why?”

“...'Cos I said so.” Oh dear god, he'd just resorted to _because I said so_. He'd officially gotten old. 

“Your looking a mite harassed, Excalibur Sir.” He turned at the sound of Gloria's amused tone, seeing that she was clearly on her way back from delivering Merlin some tea. 

“Want cream cakes!” Daisy said plaintively to the old woman, obviously looking for some sympathy to Eggsy's tyranny. He had to hide his smile when Gloria gasped in exaggerated shock, raising a hand to her bosom and all. 

“Well, we can't have such a pretty thing like you _starving_ , now can we?” She gave Eggsy a conspiratorial wink. “Shall I take her off your hands for awhile, Sir?” 

“You're a bloody saint, Gloria.” He handed over his sister happily, figuring it would give him a chance to track down Harry and maybe convince him to set the paperwork aside long enough for some tea of their own. 

That was easier said than done, as it turned out. 

Eggsy'd started by going straight to Harry's office, but it had been completely empty – there wasn't even any half-finished paperwork lying about on the desk like there would've been if Harry'd just stepped away for a moment. He'd remembered the older gent saying something about looking at R&D requisitions, so maybe he'd ended up going there to discuss something? But no, it'd been decidedly Harry-free as well. The gardens? No. The kitchens? No. 

An uneasy feeling was creeping into his gut as he headed for his last resort: Merlin's office. Harry'd also mentioned wanting to speak with the Quartermaster about Rox's case, so Eggsy figured it was the only other place he could be. 

“I'm _telling_ you, he should have been back by now!” Eggsy frowned as he caught Mina's worried-sounding voice as he opened the door to Merlin's office. The girl was stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed tightly and shoulders hunched inward protectively, even as she stood her ground to apparently give the Scotsman hell.

“What's goin' on?” He demanded, that uneasily feeling only increasing. Merlin rubbed at his eyes beneath his glasses tiredly before answering.

“Young Mr Severs stepped out this morning to fetch some clothing from home, and has yet to return.” Eggsy frowned some more, but knew that Dennis was totally capable of handling himself. 

“It's a bit o' a jog to the Churchill Estates from the shop, would take some time... How long ago did he leave?” Mina turned to him, digging her fingers tightly into the sleeves of Asbo's jumper that she still wore. 

“He always tells me _exactly_ when he'll be back – he should've been here an hour ago. You _know_ him, Eggsy... he wouldn't be late like this. Not right now, not with... the way I am.” She was right; there was no way in _hell_ that Dennis would worry her like this when she was dealing with so recent of a trauma. 

“Have you gone to Harry? Maybe he saw Denny when he was on his way in?” The confused face that Merlin pulled caught Eggsy's eye, and his stomach began to sink.

“Harry hasn't come in yet, lad.”

“No... no, he _has_ to be here... He said he was comin' in early today. He left _ages_ ago – even Harry couldn't be that late.” Merlin's face was quickly turning from stressed and irritated to genuinely worried.

“I'll check his glasses feed.” Eggsy was already shaking his head, feeling sick. He pulled them out of his pocket with a shaking hand.

“No, I... he forgot them again. I was gonna... I was gonna give them to him.” There was a buzzing his ears as all of the sudden the world tilted, before he felt Merlin gripping his arms tightly and pressing him into a chair. “ _Don't_. Don't touch me.” The hands let him go, even as it suddenly became hard to breathe. The ringing in his ears was getting worse, and Eggsy slapped his hands over them – Harry's glasses clattering to the floor. 

“ _Eggsy_.”

“What about CCTV?” Mina's voice was pressed tight with worry, but it was as if she'd thrown out a fucking lifeline to him.

“Yeah. Yeah, Merlin – check the cameras.” He tried to get his breathing to even out as Merlin began practically _hammering_ on his clipboard, various camera feeds filling the large screens. It took some moments before Eggsy caught Harry's achingly familiar form in one of them. “ _There!_ ”

“This is from a couple hours ago; should have been when you said Harry was on his way in.” 

As they watched, Harry's long form strolled contentedly down the walk – seeming at peace with the world – before he appeared to call out to someone. Asbo's hunched figure eventually trudged into the camera's view, and the two apparently paused for a moment to chat. 

Eggsy frowned as on the screen Dennis' form jolted – as though he'd been startled by something – and Harry suddenly went down; it wasn't even a second later when his cousin was dropping roughly to the pavement as well, four men coming out of the woodwork to haul their unconscious forms out of the camera's view. Merlin was swearing viciously as he searched around for an accommodating feed, finally finding one that had caught the men being dragged into the back of a van before it set off for parts unknown. 

“ _Breathe! Eggsy, breathe!_ ”

He was gone. Harry was gone. Someone had taken him.

“ _Eggsy!_ ”

In his mind, he heard Valentine's hated voice and the sharp crack of a gunshot.

_Harry was gone._

* * *

Harry greeted consciousness _roughly_ , to say the very least. 

It was a feeling he was unfortunately _intimately_ familiar with, after his many years in the spy game, and he took a moment to evaluate the room around him with his other senses before he dared risk opening his eyes. 

There was the smell of damp and concrete, a chill to the air, and the feeling of cold metallic cuffs around his wrists, which were secured behind him. He was clearly sat in some kind of chair, and the sound of a soft scrape came suddenly just to the right of directly in front of him. 

So. He was being held in a basement or cellar of some kind, immobilized, and it was clear he wasn't currently alone in the room. Lovely. 

A quiet curse sounded, Harry recognizing the voice – a memory of Asbo hitting the ground beside him suddenly surfaced, and he opened his eyes. The young man appeared slightly groggy, but otherwise unharmed, and Harry counted that as a blessing. 

“It's 'bout time you woke up, old man.” The boy muttered grumpily, and Harry couldn't contain his rueful smile. He was sat upon a chair of his own, arms also behind his back, but was close enough that their knees were almost touching.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting.” If the young man was frightened, he was hiding it remarkably well – but then again, Harry supposed that someone who made a career of running into fires would undoubtedly have rather steady nerves. Nevertheless, it was impressive. 

They didn't have long to chat, as almost immediately the door on the far wall opened – indicating that they were more than likely being monitored somehow – admitting two rather large men with automatic rifles ([M16A4 rifles](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M16_rifle), to be exact) and their star of the hour: Adam DeKant himself. Harry observed DeKant carefully, noting his obvious distaste for their surroundings and the handkerchief that he was clutching tightly in his left hand. 

“You've been following me. I want to know _why_ , and I want an answer _now_.” Well. Clearly DeKant was in no mood for quippy one-liners. In his peripheral vision, Harry could see Asbo's eyes narrow in thought. 

“I haven't the slightest idea what you mean.” Sharp pain bloomed as the butt of one of the rifles was brought down hard on the scar tissue of his left temple, momentarily causing his vision to white out as he clenched his jaw tightly and willed the pain to recede.

“ _Oi, fuck you!_ ” The sound of Asbo's snarling voice gave him something to focus on, and he re-opened eyes that had fallen closed to see the boy angrily struggling in his chair, only falling still when the muzzle of the other M16 was pressed to the artery just below the crook of his sharp jaw. 

“You behave yourself, _slag_.” The muscle in the young man's jaw ticked angrily, but the use of the word made Harry pause – it was an oddly specific insult to use, given that there was nothing revealing or even _tight_ about the boy's outfit; in fact, Asbo tended to swathe himself in rather baggy and shapeless clothing, his uniform shirt for the Watch aside. 

So then why call him _slag_ , specifically? 

“There's no need for that kind of language, gentlemen.” Harry forced out around the pounding in his head. 

“I call's 'em like they is, guv.” The lackey digging his rifle into Asbo's neck sneered. 

“We'll start small, shall we?” DeKant's voice was almost sounding _bored_ , to Harry's ears. From his inner jacket pocket he produced a photograph, and Harry felt himself grow cold. 

In the image, which had clearly been taken only the night before outside of the corner shop, he could see himself smiling into the kiss Eggsy was leaning up to give him, the young man's face clearly visible but the rest of his head obscured by the hood of the track jacket he'd been wearing, Daisy's curls just visible at the edge of the image where she'd been pressed into his shoulder. 

“Tell me your name, or we'll start with shooting off one of your boy's fingers.” Harry's eyes snapped to Asbo's, seeing that the young man had already worked it out as well – they'd taken him by mistake, believing him to be Eggsy and therefore needing him as leverage against Harry. If they were to realize their mistake, they would more than likely have no compunctions against killing the boy outright. 

“Where'd he pick you up, anyways?” The lackey holding Asbo still with his rifle taunted. “Down on Smith Street was it?”

“Piss off.”

“What d'you kids call 'em these days? A _Sugar Daddy_ , innit? Pay your way through life an' all ya gotta do is bend over for 'em, yeah? No better than bein' a fuckin' _whore_ , ain't it.” Harry grit his teeth in anger as Asbo raised a mocking eyebrow.

“Least I actually _get_ laid, you deformed _fuck_.” The lackey pulled his rifle away from the boy's throat, raising it to strike him, but paused when DeKant's voice cut in. 

“ _Enough_. I have no wish to remain in this place; give me your name, _now_.” 

“Henry Melville.” He grit out, playing the part of giving the information reluctantly, hoping that DeKant would run a search on it and ping Merlin's radar. 

“Now was that _terribly_ difficult?” He drawled, turning on his heel. “We'll be back to talk again; I suggest you make an attempt to be more cooperative next time... for the boy's sake.” The two lackeys followed DeKant out of the room, the one Asbo had insulted looming over him menacingly for a moment before making his departure. Harry waited a beat after the door closed before leaning closer to the young man's form and lowering his voice.

“I believe we are being monitored – ”

“Camera in the left corner at yer back, guv.” Harry blinked in surprise. “You think I'd let Eggsy go out ta case joints for fuckin' Dean by _himself_? I know how ta spot them things, _Christ_.” 

“...Yes, of course.” 

“What's the plan, then? 'Cos I gotta admit, I ain't kissin' ya even if they put a gun to me head again.” Harry had to bite down viciously on his own tongue to stop the bark of laughter that wanted to break free. 

“You're taking all of this fairly well, for a civilian.” Something cold passed through the boy's gaze that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on.

“It's been a shit year, guv. What's one more thing on an already steamin' pile, yeah?” Something about the blasé attitude was uncurling a tendril of unease and concern in Harry, but he knew that there higher priorities that needed his attention just then. Asbo leaned closer, their faces almost touching as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can get outta these cuffs anytime, guv – you just tell me when.” Harry nodded, glad that the boy had some useful skills for the situation and not willing to look too closely at _why_ he had them.

“Given that we're being observed, I don't want to tip our hand too soon. If you could leave them as they are until we've had a better chance to assess our whereabouts, I'd be much obliged.” 

“Fair enough.” Harry turned as much as he could in his seat, making it seem as though he was merely taking stock of their surroundings, but in reality getting a better look at the camera in the corner. It was a well-disguised affair, and he was quite impressed that Asbo had been able to spot it as quickly as he did. 

“DeKant will undoubtedly come back for more information, and any investigation he makes into the name I gave him should raise flags on our end. It may be best to bide our time, for the moment.” 

“You mean sit around and _wait_ to get rescued.” A smile twitched at Harry's mouth at the disgust in the young man's tone. 

“Not my preferred method of action either, I assure you. But I would greatly like to keep all my limbs intact, and I have a genuine fear of what Eggsy will do to me should I allow you to come to harm, you see.” Asbo rolled his eyes, looking entirely put-upon.

“Eggs knows I can handle meself, guv. What's the real reason.” Harry huffed a quiet laugh, but gave in. 

“They will be anticipating us making a move to free ourselves. It's usually best to wait until they become complacent in the thought that we are properly cowed, before doing anything drastic. The element of surprise is usually one's greatest weapon.” 

“...'spose so. Fine.” Harry leant back in his seat, giving his wrist an experimental twist and ignoring the ache already flaring up in his hands. 

_This_ was what he'd always been, at heart – a lethal predator, waiting for the moment to pounce. 

_God help them all_.

* * *

Eggsy slumped into Harry's comfortable desk chair heavily, his fingers wrapped around the King Arthur's crest that he wore, so tightly that there was bound to be an imprint of the thing in his skin. 

Merlin'd kicked him out of the room, threatening him with Medical if he didn't go somewhere to calm down and let him find Harry in peace; Eggsy would've been angry about it, if it hadn't been for his sudden realization that Merlin was _right_ – he couldn't search out Harry and Dennis all while dealing with Eggsy having a panic attack at the same fucking time.

And Eggsy wanted him focused, _needed_ Merlin to do what he did best. That was his _family_ on the line.

A horrible numbness was creeping over him, the exact same numbness that had been his constant companion during the time that they'd thought Harry dead. It terrified him. He needed... he needed _something_. Something _real_ , something of Harry's that he could cling to and try to ground himself.

He realized belatedly with a curse that he'd left Harry's glasses on the floor of Merlin's office, forgotten in his upset. 

Instead he turned to the desk drawers in front of him; _surely_ there would be something in there, something that he could use to ward against the darkness that wanted to swallow him whole. He rifled the drawers, tossing bits of paper and other mundane items about the room as he searched with increasing desperation. There had to be _something_!

He paused as he came across what looked like a small leather billfold, the item worn down and tatty – completely unlike the meticulous care that the older gent usually showed to his belongings. His panic momentarily subsumed by his curiosity, Eggsy ran gentle fingers over the soft leather and debated.

It wasn't very gentlemanly to go digging through other people's personal stuff... but then again, hadn't he already done a number on the desk? What was one more thing? 

He jerked his head up at the sound of the door opening, an almost feral snarl on his face at being disturbed. The look dropped away as soon as he saw that the intruder was Mina, eyes widened – whether in surprise at the state of the room or fear at his expression, Eggsy couldn't be sure. 

“I...I thought you might want these.” He ignored the slight crack in her voice, glancing down to what she was holding out, only to see the familiar shape of Harry's glasses. He swallowed heavily, dropping back into the chair behind him while she took careful steps forward into the room. “Eggsy?”

He opened his mouth to answer her, to maybe try to explain this sudden fit of mania, and found himself at a loss. 

“What's in your hand, sweetheart?” Her voice was quiet and soothing, even as she approached him like he was some kind of wild animal. He blinked down at the leather in his hand, seeing that his short nails had cut in to leave divots from the strength of his grip. 

“I dunno.” He was finally able to mutter. “I... I ain't ever seen it before. Found it in Harry's desk.” 

“What were you looking for in the desk, Eggsy?” 

“I dunno. _Anythin'_.” She'd come all the way across the room to reach him, stepping carefully to avoid the items strewn about the place. Her eyes searched his expression for a moment, looking sad, before she gently unfolded the arms of Harry's glasses and placed them on Eggsy's own face. “This is my fault.” He said faintly, and her brows creased in confusion.

“What's your fault, honey?”

“Harry's gone, and it's _my_ fault. I knew there was somethin'... I knew somethin' was wrong. I _knew_.” 

“Eggsy, you're not making any sense. It's not your fault, sweetheart.”

“It _is_ though.” She sighed, looking so unbearably sad, before she pressed gentle hands to his cheeks. “Please don't touch my face.” He was feeling lightheaded, voice coming out as more of a mumble than anything. Mina let him go, but lowered herself until she was knelt in front of where he sat. 

“Eggsy, can you please try very hard to listen to me?” He nodded. “Where's your jacket right now?”

“Dunno.”

“Will you let me put Denny's jumper on you?” He frowned, not understanding why she would _want_ to.

“Why?”

“...Because you're going into shock, love. Your skin is cold and we need to get you warmed up.” He blinked at her some more, finding it difficult to think for some reason. “ _Please_ , Eggsy. I won't touch you, but you need to put it on yourself then.” 

“...alright.” It was as though one moment _she_ was wearing it, and then he blinked and suddenly his cousin's warm jumper was on his own frame, and he had no idea how it'd gotten there. 

“Why don't we go get some tea, eh?” She said kindly, a shaking smile pressed onto her lips even as her eyes were watering. 

“I... no. I have to stay here.” 

“Why do you have to stay here, Eggsy?” He blinked at her, wondering why she was crying.

“I have to wait for Harry.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler / Trigger Warning:** Please see end notes if concerned about either vague spoilers for the plot of _The Smoke_ , or about triggering content

“Why're you cryin'?” Eggsy blinked at Mina, not understanding. She stared at him silently for a moment, shifting a bit on her knees.

“Is me crying bothering you, Eggsy?” His brain was still feeling a bit fuzzy, thoughts coming to him slowly and with effort, and his hand tightened on the leather he still clutched as he nodded at her. “Will you come to the kitchen for tea with me, sweetheart?”

“No, I have ta wait here... Wait for Harry.”

“But it's very cold in this room... Don't you want to warm up?” He frowned a bit, trying to decide if it really was cold or not.

“I don't feel it.” She sighed slightly, her mouth pressing thin for a moment before her expression smoothed out again.

“I'm _very_ cold, Eggsy. I'd _really_ like to have some hot tea in the kitchen to warm up.” He looked at her, and asked himself why she was only wearing a thin vest. _Hadn't she been wearing Asbo's jumper a minute ago?_

“You should be warmer...” He murmured, thinking to himself that it probably wasn't good for her to be only half-dressed while still trying to heal. 

“Yes, I think I should too. Can we go to the kitchens?”

“But I...”

“I might get lost on my way... Won't you come with me, Eggsy?” Well, he couldn't very well let her go off on her own... The mansion could be like a maze, after all. 

“We should find you a jumper... Where did Denny's go?” Her mouth turned down sadly for some reason, before a trembling smile pressed its way in. 

“I'm not sure,” She said, voice oddly shaky. “let's settle for some hot tea instead, eh?” If she didn't have a jumper, he should make sure she at least had something hot to drink, he supposed. 

“We can get tea in the kitchens...” He said, watching as she swallowed heavily, seeming to take a moment before responding for some unknown reason.

“That's a great idea, love. Let's go, okay?” She pressed herself to her feet, face pinching in pain. _Must've pulled a healing wound the wrong way_. He'd have to look out for her, right? Eggsy was good at looking after people. He reached out, intending to grab her elbow to steady her, when he realized he was holding something in his hand. He blinked down at the little leather billfold, not remembering for the moment how it'd gotten there. “You wanted to look at that, didn't you? Why don't you bring it with us, sweetheart?” _Had_ he?

“Okay.” He followed her out of the door, reaching out to clasp her hand with his empty one – he couldn't have her getting lost, after all.

Eggsy was good at taking care of people.

* * *

Harry was attempting to piece together a plan of attack when the boy spoke next. 

“He told me you beat the ever-lovin' _shite_ outta Dean's goons in the pub before.” He blinked at Asbo, uncertain where the observation had come from. 

“Yes, well. They shouldn't have called him a rent boy.” The bark of laughter his statement earned him seemed like some kind of victory. 

“I been tryin' ta figure out if he was takin' the piss or not. No offense guv, but you don't exactly look the type.” 

“ _Look like th' innocent flower, but be the serpent under't._ ” Harry murmured with a small smile.

“...Act One o' _Macbeth_ , innit?” The older man paused in surprise for a moment, before letting out a huff of a laugh.

“You remind me very much of him, at times.” 

“I'll take that as a compliment, guv.”

“I meant it as one.” They grinned at each other, but Asbo's face quickly fell in seeming unease. Harry waited in silence, not wanting to push the boy to speak.

“...You ever done somethin' you ain't proud of?” 

“Many things.” The boy seemed to contemplate his words in silence, and Harry couldn't help his curiosity. “Have you?” Asbo's eyes darted to the floor, avoiding his gaze, and it was long moments before he responded. 

“I done a lot o' bad things. But... some worse than others.” Harry could feel a sort of sadness wash over him, torn between wanting to help and fear that he would be crossing a line. 

“Though it may be presumptuous of me to offer, I would gladly listen should you ever find yourself in need of a sounding board, as it were.” The boy's eyes bounced back to Harry's own in shock.

“I... I'll think about that, maybe. Thanks, guv.” Harry nodded in acknowledgment, knowing that had likely been a difficult concession for the closed-off young man. He tipped himself closer, once again lowering his voice. 

“I believe our best option would be thus: if I find a way to disable the camera, perhaps with a well-aimed dart from my watch, we would have a few seconds before guards would have the opportunity to come in. In which case, the large vent cover on the eastern wall is showing signs of weakening, and would most likely be easiest for us to pry open swiftly in order to make an escape through the ducts.” 

“...That sounds like a lot of unnecessary work, guv.” The boy said with a judgmentally raised brow. “What would you do if you was here alone?” Harry sighed, knowing he most likely wouldn't get away with a lie. 

“I would blast my way through the door and kill any guards that I came across.” 

“That's what we'll do, then.” 

“I cannot, in good conscience – ”

“I weren't askin' _permission_ , you ain't me fuckin' _mum_.” Asbo cut in angrily, before clenching his jaw and making an obvious effort to calm down. “Look. I appreciate that you's tryin' ta look out for me for _his_ sake. But I ain't in the mood to be fuckin' about and possibly makin' the whole thing _worse_ – I'm used ta runnin' into dangerous places, guv, and at the end o' the day it don't fuckin' matter whether it's a fire or a bullet that gets me, alright? I just want the fuck outta this building.” 

Harry frowned over the boy's careless disregard for his own safety, unease creeping in and causing him to question what, _exactly_ , had happened in Asbo's life to make him so apathetic to his own survival. Harry knew well via Eggsy how utterly miserable life upon the Estates could be, but this was... this was something else altogether. Something dangerous and concerning. 

“I'm not trying to protect you merely for Eg – for _his_ sake. Though our acquaintance has been short in the grand scheme of things, I find you to be an admirable young man with a great deal of potential, and that in of itself if worth preserving.” The boy swallowed heavily, eyes cutting away from Harry's own again to dart about the room instead.

“...Sure, guv.” It wasn't entirely said in a dismissive fashion – more like the young man _wanted_ to believe Harry but found it difficult to do so. In his efforts to avoid Harry's gaze, his attention seemed to catch on something near the door, his eyes narrowing in thought. “How 'bout we split the difference, then? Bust out the door there, but in a way that might take out some o' their men with low risk to us?” Harry raised an interested brow.

“I'm listening.” 

“How big's whatever it is you got on ya that would make a blast?”

“The size of a cigarette lighter.” He replied with a small smile. 

“There's a fault in the brick work over there, on the left side o' the door. Crack's big enough that we could shove a lil' thing like that in. We aim it so the blast shoots outward, should take out a nice chunk o' the wall while at the same time takin' down whoever they got guardin' the door out there. Would need to be quick with runnin' through, though – given the size o' this room, I'm guessin' that wall is a load bearin' one, so more like than not that the ceilin' won't take too long to start comin' down on our heads.” Harry was grinning sharply before the boy was even done speaking, but couldn't help but ask.

“What makes you so certain that the guard would be standing to the left of the door?” 

“The hinges are on the right-hand side, meanin' that when it swings out it'll swing to the right. If a guard was standin' there or even in front o' the door, they risk gettin' hit with the fuckin' thing. So's if they had any brains a'tall, they'd be standin' to the left o' it. This ain't the fuckin' _movies_ , bruv.” Harry's grin spread wider, having known all of that himself, but amazed by the boy's astuteness. 

“ _Wonderful_.”

* * *

Eggsy was feeling equal parts shaky, grateful, and _severely fuckin' embarrassed_. 

He wrapped cold hands around his steaming cup of tea, staring bleakly into the dark brown liquid while he tried to figure out if he'd ever be able to look Mina in the eye again. He hadn't lost it like that since... since he'd thought Harry _dead_ , if he was being honest, and in a lot of ways it scared him that he'd done it again.

“You knew I'd snap outta it if I had someone else ta focus on.” There was a soft rustle from across the table as she shifted in her seat, but he kept his gaze downward.

“...I was hoping, yeah. I... I didn't exactly know what I was doing, but... I know that the bad days are easier for me if I just, I don't know, think about Dennis or somebody else and just ignore what's going on with _me_. Probably not the healthiest way to do things, but I was hoping that if you had to worry about taking care of someone else you'd be able to... calm down.” 

“S'pose you had the right o' it, then.” He blinked, giving his head a bit of a shake before forcing himself to look up. “Should get _this_ back on ya, though.” He said, giving a tug to the front of his cousin's warm jumper, grateful for her trying to take care of him but concerned about her sitting around practically half-dressed. 

“Maybe you should keep it a bit longer...” She seemed unconvinced, but Eggsy'd been through enough in his life that he knew he was good, for the moment. 

“Nah, it's fine. C'mere.” She stood from her chair reluctantly when he pressed up from the table, coming around and waiting as he pulled the soft material over his head. “Reeks o' cigarettes anyways.” Though the small joke was forced, he could tell that she appreciated the effort at normalcy. “Jesus, you fuckin' _swim_ in his clothes, don't ya?” He said with a more genuine note of humour, seeing the way the hem of the jumper fell to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves several times just to uncover her hands. 

“Shut it.” A relieved smile had finally pressed it's way onto her lips, even as Eggsy's expression sobered. 

“Mina?” She tilted her head in question, and he fidgeted a bit nervously. “Could I... Could I ask you for somethin'?” 

“Of course, Eggsy.” 

“It's just... When I was... When I was _really_ bad, before. When things would get too hard. I'd sit somewhere with me lil' girl and just... talk to her. Cuddle her, and try to tell her things about the flowers or whatever. But it was nice to be around someone who didn't expect nothin' from me. And, uh... Well, she's old enough now that she can tell when I'm upset about summat, and she's so attached to Harry I can't just fuckin' let her know about this, right... and I just – ”

“Eggsy.” His rambling cut off, and he dropped heavily back into his chair as she pointed to it. He watched as she grabbed her own cup of tea from the other side of the table, coming back around to push a chair flush to the side of his own. He couldn't help the small smile that pressed to his lips as she lightly grabbed his wrist, raising his arm so that she could wriggle her way underneath it and curl up against his side. “Consider me your stand-in little sister, then.” 

“Thanks.” He said on a relieved breath, grateful that she seemed to understand. He rubbed a thumb across her shoulder as she took a sip of tea, before she nodded her head at the little bit of leather resting on the table.

“Tell me about this, then. What is it?” He dragged said item closer to the edge, running a finger gently down the fraying seam near the clasp.

“I don't actually know...” He murmured quietly, fingers toying absently with the long plait that hung over her shoulder. “I found it in one o' his desk drawers, but it's... strange.” 

“What's so strange about it?” 

“Harry always keeps his things in like... _pristine_ shape, ya get me? He waxes the fuckin' antiques at home every week, and the second one o' his suits gets a fray or tear he's pullin' out the sewin' kit to make it like new. It ain't like him to have somethin' lookin' this tatty.” They both contemplated the little thing in silence for a few moments before Mina spoke up.

“Maybe it's not his, then? Maybe it belongs to someone else?” Eggsy considered the idea. 

“I been tryin' ta figure out if it would be bad of me ta open it.” She shrugged easily, taking another sip of tea.

“I honestly can't give an opinion there – it's not my place.” 

“Hmm.”

“Hey, Eggsy?” He turned his head to look at her, a small frown pulling between her brows. “I've been meaning to ask... What exactly is the deal with you and Harry? I got the gist from conversations around here that you two are _together_ , but... I don't know, somehow _boyfriend_ doesn't seem to fit someone his age.” Eggsy snorted out a laugh.

“God, it really don't.” He struggled to find words to properly convey all that Harry was to him. “He's... He's like the sun, yeah? And I don't mean that like he's some bright and eternally happy thing, 'cos he really _ain't_. It's more like... _gravity_. Like everythin' revolves around him, and he's at the middle of it all without the slightest fuckin' idea of his own importance – he could burn ya to death for all the intensity he's got locked up within him, but even then you couldn't do nothin' but think o' how gorgeous he was while he was at it. He's – ”

“The centre of your universe?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, somethin' like that.” 

Eggsy picked at the clasp of the billfold, making up his mind. He pried it open carefully, wary of tearing the ancient leather, thumbing the different folds open wider only to see that most of them were empty – the last two, however, looked to contain little slips of paper.

“What d'you think those are?” Mina asked curiously, leaning a bit closer. He pulled out the contents of the first occupied fold, the paper yellowed and brittle under his fingers. Spreading them out on the table carefully, they were finally able to see that they were clippings of... notices? Eggsy frowned as his arm tightened about Mina's shoulders, the two of them leaning forward to get a better look. 

“It's... that's the marriage notice for – well, I guess they'd be Harry's parents.” He said in surprise, turning to the next. “The birth of their son, Harold Fitzwilliam Hart... _Fitzwilliam_?!” Eggsy couldn't help it, he cracked up as Mina giggled along with him. His laughter was short lived, however, when they turned to the next.

“The unexpected death of... Harold Fitzwilliam Hart?” Mina read, sounding confused. Eggsy swallowed heavily, fighting the burning in his eyes.

“V-Day.” He explained, chokingly. “We thought Harry was dead for a good three months before... before we knew he was comin' back.” Mina curled closer into his side, and Eggsy squeezed her tight before letting out a breath. “Of course the ridiculous arsehole would keep his own fuckin' _death notice_.” He couldn't help the sob of a laugh that he gave before he tried to reign himself back in. 

“What d'you suppose was in the other fold?”

“Let's have a look, yeah?” He pulled out the paper clippings from the last section in the leather, these ones looking slightly less aged than the others. “Fuck _me_.” Eggsy blinked in surprise at the two singular pieces of paper.

“Bradley 'Lee' Unwin, killed in action in service to Her Majesty and the United Kingdom...” Mina read musingly before looking to Eggsy for an explanation. 

“Me dad.” Her face turned sad, and she nudged her head into his shoulder in comfort. He picked up the last clipping of paper, still marveling at the sight of it.

“The birth of Gary David Unwin.” She read out, again turning to him in question.

“That's _me_.” He answered with a small disbelieving laugh. “Why the fuck would Harry _have_ this?” 

“Why would he have _any_ of them?” She chuckled. “Though I suppose for sentimental reasons...” The answer came to Eggsy, suddenly, his face turning serious.

“Back when... back before we was – well, before we was shaggin' at the least – I was at Harry's place one time, and I asked him if it bothered him that he never got recognition for all the grand things he'd done to protect people. He told me that a real gentleman's name should only appear in the papers three times: _birth, marriage, death_.” 

“Seems to me he's one short of a full set, then.” Mina said jokingly, but Eggsy felt himself pause. 

“He is... ain't he.” She blinked up at him, maybe hearing the distraction in voice, but Eggsy's thoughts were swirling around too much to notice. “I've been an _oblivious fuckin' arsehole_.” He said in realization.

“...Oh...kay?”

“Harry'd told me before that he'd never thought he'd get the chance to be with somebody, not really. It was too dangerous when he was younger and then he thought he was too old fer it, or what the fuck ever. And there I been, just happy ta live with him because I don't really give a fuck about that kind o' thing either way, and figurin' that if there were somethin' else the man wanted he'd just come out and _say_ so, right?”

“Uh...” 

“...'cept Harry ain't _never_ been the kind to just say what he wants, 'cos he thinks he ain't allowed ta have nice things or somethin', and he's _always_ puttin' what he thinks other people want ahead of his own, and _I am so fuckin' stupid!_ ” 

Mina startled as he pushed quickly away from the table, standing so suddenly that his chair tipped over to the ground with a loud clatter. He hastily swept all the paper clippings back into the billfold, shoving it into his pocket before he grabbed her upper arm, pulling her to her feet and towards the door.

“Um, Eggsy? Where are we going?”

“To Merlin, and as soon as he's found Dennis and Harry, I'm goin' to _get them back_.” A knowing grin started spreading across her lips, even as she half-jogged in an effort to keep up with him still pulling her along by her arm.

“And then what?” She asked.

“And then I'm gonna _fuckin' marry him_.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler / Trigger Warning:** This chapter contains vague spoilers for the plot of _The Smoke_. Also contains depictions of someone being beaten, though it isn't very graphic.

And so, they had a plan – even a fairly _good_ one, by Harry's estimation – but before they could put any effort into enacting it, the door creaked open to admit DeKant once again. _Shit_. 

He made swift observation of the man's face, trying to determine if his alias had been blown somehow, or if they still had a modicum of safety – if DeKant were to discover Harry's status as a spy, they would more than likely be in for an _incredibly_ difficult time. If anything, DeKant looked slightly _concerned_ , which he presumed meant they still had a chance.

“You've presented me with a rather significant problem, gentlemen.” The man's voice was pressed with stress and anxiety, which could both help or hinder them – it was impossible to determine _which_ , as of yet. DeKant had only brought one of his lackeys with him, and thankfully _not_ the one that Asbo had previously enraged; Harry waited silently to see how it was all going to play out. 

“I'd say bein' handcuffed is a bit more of a _significant problem_ , guv.” Harry leveled his reluctant companion with a firm stare, trying to convey that the boy should _shut the hell up_ and save his own hide. 

“My search on the name _Henry Melville_ turned up some interesting facts, you see.” DeKant continued on, clearly ignoring the sarcastic outburst. “I'd known that you must be someone of particular note to be admitted to the _Diogenes Club_ in the first place, but I hadn't guessed at just _how_ notable you really were.” Harry vaguely recalled that Merlin had made that particular alias a high-ranking government figure or some bloody thing, and internally blessed him for it. “So my problem becomes thus: your disappearance would certainly be obvious to a great many people that I have no wish to draw the attention of, and yet I still need information out of you.” 

“Sounds like you're fucked ta me, mate.” DeKant turned back to Asbo, obviously trying to reign in his irritation.

“On the contrary, _boy_. I have enough intelligence to know that I'm very unlikely to get the answers I want from _him_ , but at the very least I've still been left with _you_. Now, shall we do this in a civilized manner?” One of Asbo's eyebrows twitched up in seeming interest, but Harry took note of the utter _hate_ buried in the young man's gaze. “Name your price, boy – I could give you any amount of money you demand, in exchange for answers to my questions.” Asbo leaned forward in his chair, shoulders and chest stretching wide as his arms remained bound behind him.

“Can't buy a soul the devil already owns, mate.” Harry could feel a frown start to pull at his own expression, even as DeKant's irritation became all the more obvious.

“I suppose we'll have to take the more _savage_ method, then.” With that, the man snapped his fingers and the lackey who'd been silently observing the proceedings stepped forward. “Now. What do you know about your man's reasons for following me?” Harry was concerned that Asbo would reply with another sarcastic quip that would only exacerbate the situation, but wisely the young man merely clenched his jaw tight and stared in silence. “Very well, then.” 

With that, the lackey stepped forward and punched Asbo across his sharp jaw, the _thud_ of the strike solid enough to make even Harry wince, the boy's head snapping to the side with the force of it, though he made no sound – no grunt, no cry of pain, not even a gasp. Harry found himself inordinately _proud_. 

The pattern continued on for several long minutes; DeKant would repeat his question, and every time that Asbo refused to answer he was struck in some manner, blows to his unprotected stomach seemingly the worst of the lot. Harry felt regret and impotent rage pull at him for the fact that this young man – this _civilian_ , Eggsy's _family_ – had come to harm because Harry'd been foolish enough not to have noticed being followed. That he was there merely because he'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, his only transgression that of looking too similar to his own cousin. 

He resisted the urge to free himself from his handcuffs and strike out to bring the beating to an end; to begin with, the lackey was armed and would have more than enough time to shoot the boy before Harry would have a chance to get to him, but in addition to that, it would utterly _ruin_ their element of surprise for making their escape from the building itself – they'd be shot down in _minutes_. Harry took comfort in the knowledge that Asbo was more than capable of escaping his own bindings but was clearly choosing _not_ to – more than likely because the boy was intelligent enough to draw all the same conclusions about their escape as Harry had. 

They would have to bide their time, unfortunately. 

“Still unwilling to speak, boy?” DeKant drew the blows to a halt with a hand raised in command, the lackey stepping aside. Asbo's breathing was laboured, chest heaving although he was clearly making an effort to keep quiet. 

“Where I come from,” Asbo finally gritted out from clenched teeth. “you keep yer fuckin' mouth shut and you don't grass up. So _piss off_.” DeKant seemed to regard him in interest for a moment. 

“Do you know, I've done quite a bit of business with the Mafia over in America; an _enlightening_ experience, to say the least. Tell me, boy – do you know what the word [_omertà_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Omert%C3%A0) means?” Asbo stared at the man stonily in silence. “It's a code that they have; the basics of it being that one must _never_ sell out their organization to the authorities or competitors, no matter the circumstances – they must maintain their silence even if it means their own incarceration or death. _For a wounded man shall say to his opponent: If I die, you are forgiven. If I live, I will kill you – Such is the rule of honour_.” 

“Well, the killin' part's right, at least.” DeKant quirked a brow at the boy's mild response, leaning closer over his bound form. 

“Murder is a far cry from the ordinary thuggery you lower classes like to engage in, _boy_ – I doubt your ability to truly deal with blood on your hands.” As Harry watched, something went cold and menacing in the young man's gaze, enough so that even their captor seemed to sense it.

“What makes you think I don't _already_ got blood on me hands?”

* * *

“What've we got, Merlin?” The Quartermaster gave him an assessing look as Eggsy and Mina burst their way back into his office, obviously recognizing after a moment that he finally had his head back in the game. 

“Our systems were pinged just a moment ago when someone ran a search on one of Harry's aliases; I'm tracing it back now.” 

“Good. And what about tracking down the van that took them?” Merlin gestured to the left side of the screen, where it looked like the computers were busy scrolling through information on autopilot. 

“I've been able to follow it to Hampstead Heath, but I'm still trying to narrow it down.” A sharp and dangerous grin pulled to Eggsy's face, and he felt something _deadly_ creeping into his chest. 

“Hampstead Heath, you say?” 

“Aye. I figured it'd be your area of expertise. Eggsy... Are you sure you're up for this, lad?” He couldn't fault Merlin for being cautious – if they'd been any sort of _official_ agency, he would've been thrown as far away from this as possible, due to the personal tie and the recent display of mental instability. _Thank fuckin' Christ we do what we want_. 

“I've got it, but thanks. I'll take Lancelot with me – it's technically her case, after all.” 

“Very well.” 

“Where is she, anyways?” It was a bit unusual for Roxy not to be right in the thick of it, but his slight concern eased with the other man's reply.

“We received notice from Dagonet that your mother was on her way here, so Lancelot went to meet her at the train entrance.” _Ah, that explains that, then_. 

“Your mum?” Mina asked, and Eggsy belatedly realized that he still had a tight grip around her upper arm from where he'd been dragging her with him down the corridors. He blinked, letting go quickly.

“Jesus _fuck_ , I'm so sorry – ”

“It's fine, love.” He eased, the quirk of a smile on her face convincing him that it really _was_ fine. Before he could say anything more, the doors opened behind him to admit both Roxy and Michelle, the latter looking confused. 

“What's all the excitement, babes?” She startled slightly when she spotted Mina, the stranger in their midst giving her pause before she obviously noted the still-healing bruising on the girl's face. His mum raised a hand to tap lightly over her own cheekbone in demonstration, giving an understanding grimace. “You should get some Witch Hazel on them bruises, dove – used to work wonders fer me.” 

“Um... thanks.” Mina replied, looking surprised. 

“Mum... maybe sit down.” He could see when the older woman's guard slammed up, suspicion and dread crossing her face. 

“Why am I needin' to sit down?”

“Just... _please_.” He waited until she complied, taking a seat on the low table across from her and reaching out to grip her hands. _Do it quick, just like a plaster_. “Harry's been taken, mum.” He watched as shock overtook her, giving her a moment to process it all before continuing on. “Dennis was with him.” 

“Dennis? _Our_ Denny?!” He nodded his head, tightening his grip on her fingers when he could feel them tremble. “How? _Why_?! I didn't think they even _knew_ each other, Eggsy what the _fuck_?” 

“It's a long story, mum, and I _swear_ I'll tell it to ya later – but right now we don't have the time.”

“But... why _Denny_?”

“I've a theory about that.” Merlin spoke up, and Michelle made a visible effort to calm down. “I think they perhaps mistook him for Eggsy – there doesna seem to be any other logical explanation for it.” 

“Is it not possible that they recognized him from when Asbo was tailing them for us earlier? Perhaps they spotted him?” Roxy's questions were valid ones, but Eggsy had to agree with Merlin on this one.

“Nah, love. If that were the case, they'd've snatched him _ages_ ago – it's too big a coincidence that he weren't taken until he was _with_ Harry.” 

“So what do we do, then?” His mum's voice still held a quaver, but she was rallying herself and that's what mattered most.

“We're trackin' them down, and then me and Rox are gonna be goin' to get 'em. But if they knew enough to put me and Harry together, I ain't trustin' what _else_ they might know – I want you and Daisy to stay here in the mansion until we know it's safe, yeah?” Michelle nodded, before a thought seemed to occur to her.

“What about yer Auntie Rae?”

“Already taken care of.” Merlin replied, and Eggsy turned to him with a questioning look. “She is as of yet uninformed about Kingsman or any of this, and personally I'd like to keep it that way – I've set a discrete guard to keep an eye on both her person and her flat in Churchill until we can ascertain that the threat has been... _handled_.” 

“Merlin, you the guv'nor.” The relief he felt was indescribable; Eggsy didn't think he could take the thought of one more innocent family member being hurt because of him. The conversation came to a halt at a quiet tap on the door.

“Enter.” Gloria peeked her head in, coming round the door with his little girl perched on one ample hip.

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies and gentlemen. It's just the wee one was fussing for her man there.” She said with an apologetic smile, as Daisy made grabby-hands at Eggsy. He withheld his sigh, knowing that as inconvenient as the timing was, it wasn't _her_ fault; Daisy was only a child, after all. 

“Been givin' poor Gloria a hard time, my girl?” He asked even as he raised himself from the table in order to take the little thing in question into his arms. 

“Oh, not at all, Sir. She's been an absolute delight, I think she was just missing you.” He could see a dangerous quiver to the toddler's lower lip.

“You _promised_ , Eggsy!” _Definitely about three seconds away from a tantum. Lovely_. “You promised we'd get to see Ri-Ri!” Eggsy's stomach sank, even as he could see his mum wince behind the girl's back. 

“Thanks, Gloria. We've got it from here.” She smiled kindly at them, giving a respectful little dip before exiting the room, closing the door softly behind her. “I _know_ I promised, poppet. But Ri-Ri's very busy just now, and it wouldn't be very nice to disturb him, would it?” 

“But – ”

“Oh my goodness!” They all turned at Mina's exclamation, her face pulled into an exaggerated look of surprise. “Are you Daisy?” The little girl nodded shyly, and Mina gave her a big smile. “I've been hearing _all_ about you! My name is Mina, I'm a friend of your brother and your cousin Dennis.”

“...You are?”

“Yep! They've been telling me how clever you are. Eggsy says that you know almost _all_ of the names of the flowers in the garden, is that true?” Once again she nodded, pressing her forehead into Eggsy's jaw.

“What happened to your face?” Mina's smile dipped for a brief moment at the innocent question, but she was quick to press it back on. 

“You know, I was _really_ clumsy, and fell down the stairs the other day.” Eggsy and Michelle both winced, far too accustomed to the _I fell down the stairs_ and _I ran into a door_ excuses – but Daisy had been too little to remember anything of their lives with Dean, and he silently thanked Mina for lying to try and shield the child from the truth. 

“Oh. Does it hurt?”

“It's getting better. Hey, Daisy – can I ask you for a favour?” She waited for another shy nod, before continuing. “Do you think that maybe the two of us and your mum could go out to the gardens? Eggsy's taken me out there a few times to see the flowers, and they're all so pretty. Could you help me out and tell me what they're called? I'd really love to know, and you're so smart.” 

“Okay. Can we see Ri-Ri after?” Eggsy exchanged a look with Mina, before answering.

“I promise that as soon as Ri-Ri's got time for tea, we'll bring you to see him. Alright, Flower?” 

“Okaaay.” He gave her a soft kiss on her blonde curls, before handing her off to his mum with a knowing look. Mina waited until the two of them were out the door before turning to him.

“A fuckin' _angel_ , you are.”

“Just... Just bring Denny back, Eggsy. I'll keep her busy for you, but I just – ”

“I know. I'll get 'em back, one way or another.” She gave him an acknowledging nod, leaving quietly to catch up to the others. “Merlin, last I checked Gareth wasn't out on an active mission – send him out to keep an eye on the girls, will ya?” The normally dour Scotsman raised a brow even while humour lit in his eyes.

“Oh, aye. As you wish, _Guinevere_.”

* * *

The silence after the boy's statement practically _rang_ in their ears, and that thread of dread and worry that had been steadily twisting in Harry's gut over Asbo's behaviour grew all the stronger in the face of it. 

There had been something far too... _knowing_ , in his voice, his eyes. Something _truthful_. 

Harry balked at the idea that the boy could be some kind of willful _murderer_ – primarily because in his lengthy career he'd become all too familiar with what such people looked and acted like, and it just didn't _fit_ with what he'd seen of Asbo's own personality, but also because the boy was so frighteningly similar to his cousin... the both of them were _protectors_ , at the heart of it all, not _killers_. 

No, he could not imagine that Asbo had willingly harmed another human being; but the fact remained that there was a story there that needed telling nonetheless. Something he wasn't understanding, and – Harry presumed – something that perhaps even Eggsy himself was unaware of. It seemed their captor could equally feel the underlying threat to the statement, as the man looked positively _frightened_ , though he was clearly making an effort not to appear so. 

“Oh, one more thing, right.” DeKant leaned closer to Asbo's figure when the boy spoke again, clearly trying to make it seem as though he was the farthest thing from intimidated. Harry blinked in surprise when instead of continuing to speak, Asbo spat in the man's face – the saliva carrying a fair amount of blood from where the inside of his cheeks must have broken open. 

DeKant gave an unholy shriek, the linen kerchief that he'd been clutching immediately coming up to wipe frantically at the area, while he cursed the boy for being 'filthy' and 'unclean'. Even the lackey looked surprised by the hysterical outburst, his gaze switching uneasily between his employer and [Asbo's darkly smirking figure](https://68.media.tumblr.com/1aa52df4ee309b93570c2f6ca59865e3/tumblr_nlcugtn8lS1uokpato6_250.gif) as though trying to work out if he should be retaliating on the boy for the action or not. DeKant left the room swiftly, the overwhelming need to find facilities in which to wash his face obviously taking precedence in his mind, and the lackey reluctantly left to follow him. 

“He could have ordered you shot instantly for such an action, you know.” 

“Whatever, guv. Let's get the fuck outta here while we's got a chance.” Agreeing with the immediacy of the situation, Harry nevertheless made a mental note to have a _very_ long talk with the boy as soon as their lives were no longer at stake. 

“Yes, let's make haste.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Some description of a beating, and minor mentions of sexual assault (nothing graphic, just Asbo talking about what happened to Mina in vague terms)

Eggsy was pulling the last strap of his tactical gear tight when he heard Roxy clear her throat behind him, letting him know that she was there. He turned with a brow raised in question, but if he was being honest... He already knew what she was about to say.

“You good?” She asked, while sliding a few spare cigarette lighter grenades into one of the many pockets of her own gear. He wasn't angry at her for asking; if the situation were reversed, he'd probably do the same. 

“I'm good.” He said firmly, looking her in the eye so that she could see it for herself. “You _know_ me, Rox – I'll do anythin' I fuckin' have to if it means gettin' the two of 'em back, but I won't put me or you in danger for it. End o' the day we're _all_ comin' home.” She stared at him with narrow eyes for a moment, obviously determining for herself if she believed him. Eventually she nodded in acceptance.

“Alright. Shall we then, _Guinevere_?” She laughed when he flipped her the Vs, sashaying out the door of Fitting Room Three with a rude gesture of her own.

* * *

The wall blew with a spectacular burst of noise and flame, bricks and mortar raining down as the ceiling above them creaked ominously. Harry wasted no time, dashing through the new opening and dropping a guard that had been stunned (but unfortunately not killed) by the explosion. 

He grabbed the guard's discarded pistol, noting in his peripheral that another was raising to fire just as Asbo was pushing his way through the wreckage. Moving quickly, Harry grabbed the boy and turned, using his taller frame to shield him whilst his own back took the incoming bullets. The impact of them against the bulletproof fabric of his suit jacket was hardly pleasant, but Harry had become so accustomed to the sensation that it mattered little.

He used the momentum of the hold to spin them in a circle, raising his borrowed gun to fire at the offending guard; his tight grip on the pistol and the motion of squeezing down on the trigger made a sharp pain flare in the joints of his hand, causing the bullet that had been destined for the centre of the man's forehead to instead graze his left temple. Knowing there was no time to worry about the rare miss, Harry instead recalculated his shot to compensate for the shaking in his hand, the bullet finding home the second time. 

Everything fell quiet, though Harry knew that they had but mere moments before reinforcements would arrive. He winced as another sharp pain lanced through his hands, easing the arm that he'd had wrapped around his companion's shoulders to let the boy take a step back. 

“Fuckin' _hell_ , guv! You alright?!” In the short time that they'd been acquainted, more often than not when Harry'd heard Asbo speak it was with his usual surliness – with the occasional flash of anger, or dry humour when talking to Mina or Eggsy – and so he was quite startled to hear the absolute _panic_ that now strained his tones. Especially considering the fact that Harry hadn't been altogether certain whether the boy liked him or not. 

“Quite alright, though we should probably be quick with our departure.” Asbo stared at him, seemingly dumbfounded.

“You just took about six bullets to yer fuckin' back. How the fuck are you even still _breathin'_?!” Blinking, Harry gave a tug to the bottom of the jacket, hearing the satisfying sound of the flattened bullets dropping to the floor. He rather enjoyed the shock that the move earned him, if he were being honest, though he refrained from laughing outright as he felt the boy wouldn't appreciate such a thing. 

“Kingsman suits are, of course, bulletproof.” He said dryly, turning toward the end of the corridor as large swaths of the ceiling were beginning to give way. “Shall we?” 

“You want me behind or in front o' ya?” Harry wondered if there would come a time when the young man's astuteness would stop surprising him. Evidently, something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, as Asbo rolled his eyes. “I know me strengths, guv – bein' in the middle o' a gunfight ain't one of 'em, so _you_ tell me where I should be.” Harry considered the options carefully; if he told Asbo to stay in front of him then he could protect the boy's vulnerable back, however conversely he didn't know what they'd be walking into once they got through the door at the end of the corridor, in which case having Asbo firmly behind him would offer more protection in that circumstance. 

“Behind, if you'd be so kind. Perhaps try to keep an eye on our backs, however.”

“Got it, guv.” 

The rather run-down industrial nature of the building they were in put them at the disadvantage of limited objects and walls to take cover behind, but Harry liked to think that he made do quite well with what he had to work with. 

They were two floors up, and Harry was on his third borrowed pistol, when he was suddenly being forcefully tackled to the ground behind some crates before he could take the opportunity to dispense with the men who'd been actively shooting at them. Blinking at Asbo's outraged look, Harry tried to figure out what it was that he'd obviously done wrong in the boy's eyes.

“Are you fuckin' _mental_ or what?!” The young man hissed angrily at him. “Didn't you see the fuckin' propane valve on the wall behind 'em?! You _tryin'_ ta blow us up?!” Harry raised himself to get a look over the cover of the crates, only for the boy to use his shoulder to press him back down. 

“I wasn't aiming at the _wall_ , I was aiming at the men trying to _kill us_.” 

“Well no offense, guv – but you ain't exactly been aimin' straight this whole time.” Blinking at him innocently, Harry chose not to get defensive over the observation.

“One could certainly make the argument that I'm incapable of doing _anything_ 'straight'.” The unimpressed and exasperated look the comment earned him was absolutely _worth it_. 

“Gay dad jokes. This is what yer givin' me, as people are shootin' at our _heads_. Gay dad jokes.” 

Harry didn't think he'd ever gone back into the fray of a firefight laughing so uproariously before.

* * *

Eggsy grinned sharply as they entered the building, the sounds of gunfire and screams alerting them that Harry was clearly already out of restraints and having fun.

“ _That's my man_.” He murmured triumphantly as Merlin gave a chuckle over the comms. 

“Let it never be said that ours is an _idle_ King.” He said dryly, Roxy and the other agents that had come with them giving agreeing cheers – a fair bit of 'house cleaning' had been done since Harry had taken over, Chester King's supporters having been dubbed too untrustworthy to remain. Eggsy took comfort in the fact that the Knights that had insisted on joining them were truly loyal to Harry and Kingsman, and would give their lives if necessary to get him back. 

“Kay, check that hole in the floor on the left and make sure we're not about to have any _surprises_ coming up. Gawain and Bedivere, take the floor directly above us.” The agents in question gave acknowledging nods and responses of _Yes, Sir_ as Eggsy issued orders in his 'working voice', the tones rolling smoothly over his tongue. “Percival and Lamorak, you're on information retrieval – any and all paper documents you can find as well as all computer hard drives to be delivered to Merlin. Bors and Elyan, assist Kay and then the three of you can work on capturing all targets that attempt to flee.”

“Yes, Sir!”

“And Elyan?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Don't fuck it up this time. Lancelot won't always be available to clean up after you.” He ignored Roxy's snort of laughter as Elyan's face fell; he was a relatively new agent, and Eggsy knew he'd improve with time, but he needed the young lad to be on-top of things.

“...Yes, Sir.” He said dejectedly, before joining the others. 

“Alright, boys and girls. Lancelot and I will be on the top floor of the building, since that's where most of the gunfire seems to be coming from. I want _no_ Kingsman casualties and as many prisoners as we can manage for interrogation. Let's do this cleanly.” 

_This is diff'rent_ , Eggsy told himself as he and Roxy made for the stairs to move upwards, _this is diff'rent than when Michaelson took me. I ain't gonna just kill 'em all, I'm gonna do this proper – I'm gonna make Harry proud_. 

As satisfying as it would be to give all of the bastards who had taken part in the trafficking a quick and messy death, Eggsy knew that they still needed information; there were far more than just Mina who'd been taken, far more people that they still needed to try and save. 

“ _Excalibur. There are quite a few opponent corpses in the basement, as well as evidence of restraints and an explosion. It's obvious that our men were being held down here before using a lighter to blast their way out_.”

“Noted, Kay. Carry on.” Eggsy shared a glance with Roxy while they took cover behind a wall, having heard shouting from the room just past it. “Percival, report.” 

“ _We've found what looks to be a makeshift office on the second floor. We've gathered some printed pages, as well as Lamorak is currently dismantling the computer_.”

“Excellent. Good work, lady and gent.” Lamorak's girlish giggle sounded over the comms.

“ _You know me and technology, Excalibur. I'll have this done in a mo'_.”

Nodding to each other, he and Roxy rounded the corner with their pistols drawn and set to sleeper rounds, felling all who came in their path quickly and leaving them for the others to come along and restrain. 

_Hold on, Harry and Denny. I'm comin'_.

* * *

They'd made their way to the top floor of the building with (thankfully) no injuries. Well... no injuries other than what the boy had already suffered during his interrogation. Harry could tell that the the blows to his stomach in particular seemed to be bothering the young man, but there wasn't much they could do about it until they managed to return to Kingsman. 

He'd tried to steer them toward an exit, his only thought having been to get Asbo out of the building and to safety, but the boy had stubbornly insisted that this was their chance to get DeKant once and for all – that he could make his escape if they “wasted too much time fuckin' about”. He'd then taken off running before Harry could make another argument, leaving only the thought that for someone with that stocky of a build, he could run _pretty damn fast_. 

Being the trained agent that he was – albeit slightly out of practice since he was rarely in the field anymore – it didn't take long for Harry to catch up to him. It was long enough, however, for Asbo to have apparently not only _found_ DeKant, but to have already knocked the man to the ground.

Harry took a moment to catch his breath as the young man sat himself firmly on DeKant's chest, immobilizing the other man's arms underneath the press of his knees whilst he began viciously punching him in the face. Taking his time, Harry saw no reason to stop the boy just yet – after all, the man had orchestrated the kidnapping and assault of his very dear friend, as well as had ordered for Asbo himself to endure a beating. There wasn't any harm in letting him blow off a little steam. 

Or, at least... He hadn't _thought_ there was any harm. Harry frowned when the boy showed no inclination to get up, moving closer to the two figures on the floor with the thought of perhaps putting an end to it himself. As he came closer, Asbo's voice became clearer over the sound of DeKant's screaming.

“I will put you fuckin' _six feet under_ meself for takin' her, you _bastard_! Ain't nobody _ever_ supposed to lay hands on her, you hear me?! That's _my_ girl, me best mate, me fuckin' _sister_ and you let yer boys hurt her, I'm gonna _fuckin' kill you with me bare fuckin' hands_!” 

His alarm growing, Harry moved forward to stop him just as another figure came flying across the room to bodily tackle Asbo, the two forms rolling a few feet across the floor with the force of it. Harry's gun raised instantly, only just _nearly_ stopping himself from pulling the trigger when he realized that the dark-clothed form was Eggsy. 

“ _Get the fuck off me!_ ”

“Stop! Denny, fuckin' _stop_! It's _me_ , bruv!” Though Asbo stopped actively trying to _harm_ his restrainer, he still struggled to break free from Eggsy's firm hold. 

“ _I'll fuckin' kill him!_ ”

“ _Denny!_ ” 

Harry turned his attention back to DeKant, kneeling down with his pistol at the ready in case of any deception. The man's face was utterly unrecognizable – swollen and covered in blood, his nose broken in several places, giving Harry enough cause to be concerned that the boy may have _actually_ murdered him. A quick and careful check of his pulse showed that he was merely unconscious. 

“I've got him, Arthur.” Roxy's calm voice was like a soothing balm, as he'd been concerned for a moment that Eggsy had come after them completely alone. He backed out of her way, allowing her to turn DeKant over to restrain him, despite being currently comatose; one could not always trust that a suspect would remain unconscious for long. 

Checking on the two young men again, Harry saw that Eggsy had managed to wrestle his cousin to be flat on his back, sitting on his chest much as Asbo had previously done to DeKant, both hands wrapped around his cousin's wrists in a strong grip and holding his hands still against Eggsy's own chest. 

“Fuckin'... Just take a second here, for fucks sake!” Asbo glared up at Eggsy, but at the very least appeared to stop physically struggling.

“You _know_ what he done, Eggs! You know – ”

“Yeah, I _do_ fuckin' know! Better than you ever will!” The reminder of all Eggsy had suffered in the past seemed to bring the other boy up short, looking startled and then chagrined. “But I also know that there's a bunch more people that he's hurt, that are still out somewheres and needin' our _help_. And if I've learned _anythin'_ in this business, it's that the arseholes at the top don't _ever_ share all they know with the hired fuckin' help – we need him alive, _for now_ , so that we can get them back.” Eggsy eased up his hold when it was clear Asbo was no longer going to struggle. 

“I promise you,” Harry broke in, capturing the attention of all in the room, though it was directly to only one that he was speaking. “DeKant will get all that he deserves, in time. I once executed a man after I was done interrogating him purely for the fact that he'd laid his hands on Eggsy – I _fully_ understand what you're feeling right now. Our sense of morals as Kingsman agents are flawed and skewed, but I promise you that we _have_ them; he _will_ be punished for his crimes. Leave that punishment to us – you _do not_ want this on your conscience.” 

“My conscience would be fuckin' _clear_ , guv.” Asbo insisted stubbornly, but Harry knew better. Every Kingsman agent knew the weight of lives taken in cold blood – it was a weight they told themselves they bore for the greater good, but a heavy burden nonetheless. Harry would not allow the boy to bear such a thing.

“Leave it to us. I give you my _word_ that he will suffer the consequences of his actions.” Asbo stared at him stonily for a moment, and Harry waited to see what he would do. 

“...Fine.” Harry kept the relief he felt at the boy's acquiescence internal, though apparently Eggsy had no such qualms; his shoulders dropped visibly, before he climbed off his cousin's prone form and gave him a hand back up. “You look like a wanker in that get-up.” He muttered, eyeing Eggsy's tactical gear distastefully. 

“How flattering.” Roxy, who was obviously clad in the same outfit, said with dry humour as they all tried to shake off some of the tension. 

“...Looks right fit on _you_ , though.” Eggsy snorted at the comment, clapping a hand to Asbo's shoulder.

“She's got better aim than I do, mate. You just keep that in mind.” Roxy barked a laugh just as the sound of approaching footsteps had Harry swinging his gun back around to the doorway. He lowered it again almost immediately, rather a bit shocked to see seven Knights coming through the door. He turned to Eggsy with a raised brow.

“Don't you think _nine_ Kingsman agents for a retrieval is a bit excessive?” Eggsy opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Percival was answering on his behalf. 

“We didn't give him much choice in the matter, Arthur. We all rather insisted on tagging along.” Harry couldn't help his slight smile, feeling grateful.

“Have I been keeping you so under-worked, then? I'll be sure to inform Merlin he needs to do a better job making sure you all don't get bored.” They all shared a chuckle, clearly having heard something from Merlin over the comms that Harry was unaware of – though knowing the man as he did, Harry was sure it was far from complimentary. 

“All detainees and information are being transported back to HQ as we speak, Excalibur Sir.” Elyan piped up, the young man looking about five seconds from snapping a salute Eggsy's way, leaving Harry to wonder what had been going on whilst he'd been gone. 

“Good. Let's pack everything up and go back home; I want everyone ready for debrief with Arthur first thing tomorrow morning.” Harry could feel his brows climbing further up his forehead in surprise when they all merely agreed with a _Yes, Sir!_ before exiting the room. 

“Fuckin' Christ, who are ya and what've you done to me cousin? And what's with that fuckin' _voice_?” 

For the second time that day, Harry found himself roaring with laughter, unable to contain it.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler / Trigger Warning:** Minor spoilers for _The Smoke_ , and some sexual content

There was a burning in Eggsy's gut, a terrible and compelling _need_ to get his hands on Harry in some way, to feel the warmth of his skin under his palms and know that he was alright, that he was _safe_. 

He reined it in, best that he was able, as he didn't think the others sharing the back of the Kingsman lorry with them would appreciate it much.

“Where we headed to now?” Dennis murmured, wincing in pain as he shifted on the bench seat. 

“Back to Mina. No worries, bruv.” His cousin seemed satisfied with the answer, closing his eyes tiredly and resting a hand over his own stomach. Eggsy frowned at the sight. “What's the matter with ya?” When it looked like he was just gonna ignore the question, Harry spoke up.

“DeKant believed him to be _you_ , and decided his best method for gaining information about my alias would be to interrogate him.” The explanation was given simply, but Eggsy noted that Harry was watching him like a hawk. His blood went cold just at the thought of someone laying hands on his kin, because of _him_. Dennis shouldn't have ever been in that situation in the first place.

“Fuck off, Eggs.” At his cousin's tired voice, Eggsy glanced over – only to see that the other boy's eyes were still closed. “Don't gimme that look, bruv.” 

“You ain't even got yer eyes open to know what look I'm givin' ya.” 

“Don't need to. Know you's sittin' there with that stupid puppy-eyed _oh it's all me fault_ expression on yer dumb face.” Eggsy couldn't help but snort a small laugh, silently acknowledging that Dennis knew him too well. Roxy threw him a cheeky wink, obviously finding it funny. 

“Piss off, Denny.” He contemplated Harry's words for a minute... _interrogation_. The worry wouldn't leave him. He turned his attention back to the older man, knowing the he would give him the truth. “How bad we talkin'?” Harry's expression sobered, but he raised a hand as if to say _Just calm down, it's not so bad_. Eggsy noticed that the hand shook. 

“Quite a few blows to the stomach and kidneys, one to the face. No blood was drawn, thankfully.” 

“They use a [billy](https://i5.walmartimages.com/asr/282138cf-07fd-44e6-946e-b0dea2be3284_1.ec3efaeedf9e96ca498b0e67497d6d00.jpeg?odnHeight=450&odnWidth=450&odnBg=FFFFFF)?”

“No, dearest. Just fists.” Well. That was _something_ , at least; he supposed it could have been a lot worse. “We'll have medical give him a good look-over, make sure there's no internal damage.” Dennis _tsk_ ed in annoyance, being about as much a fan of doctors as Eggsy himself was. 

“Shut it. Yer gonna get checked and that's fuckin' _that_.” Eggsy took a deep and steadying breath, feeling like it was the first he'd had at all since they'd realized that the two men had been kidnapped. _It's okay; we got 'em back, and they's both fine. It's okay_. 

He opened eyes that he hadn't realized he'd closed when he felt a nudge against his knee, seeing that Dennis had sprawled his legs wider in order to press up against Eggsy's – it was a familiar move, something that his cousin had done a lot of when they'd been younger, his way of trying to give Eggsy physical comfort without aggravating his aversion to being held. It made him smile. 

“Keep spreadin' them legs and Rox might get ideas, bruv.” The girl in question rolled her eyes, as Dennis snorted a tired laugh. 

“I'd rather ask him about whether there are any women firefighters in his station, actually.” And _that_ was enough to get Dennis to open his eyes again, a brow raising in interest.

“Swing _that_ way, do ya?” 

“I swing any way I _please_.” Roxy's grin was sharp as daggers, and goddamn but Eggsy loved that girl. “What can I say? I like a girl in uniform.” Dennis barked out a laugh, shaking his head a little. 

“Well, the only one on my Watch is Ziggy – she's right fit and good for a laugh, but you's outta luck, dove.”

“Why's that?”

“She's married and got kids, so soz.” Roxy laughed lightly. “A few more on the other Watch teams though; you come fer a visit and I'll try ta get you introductions, yeah?”

“ _Excellent_.” 

Eggsy let their banter pass through his ears without paying it much attention, knowing that Dennis was probably trying to wind down and shake off the stress as best he could. He let his attention wander back Harry's way, clenching his jaw when he noticed that the older man was still watching him very, _very_ carefully. 

Harry'd always been notoriously hard to read, and it seemed more so now than ever. He was helpless to do anything but stare back, as the larger man watched him with all the intensity of a steadily burning fire. 

Eggsy _needed_. He absolutely fucking _ached_ with it. _Just a bit longer. I just have to wait a bit longer_. 

A couple more hours, tops – and then he could _take_.

* * *

Harry felt as though he was burning alive. 

He watched Eggsy as intently as the other man watched _him_ , and tried to tell himself to be patient. 

He'd never been very _good_ at patience. 

It was inevitable that his mind would begin making comparisons to when they'd tried to rescue Eggsy from Michaelson ('tried', because ultimately Eggsy had bloody well rescued _himself_ ), and the moment they'd found each other was playing on a loop in his thoughts.

The anxiousness and trepidation turning to blissful relief at finding him _alive_ and the concern at what his captivity had done to him mentally, but primarily his thoughts were of the moment that he'd let Harry get close – when he'd dug firm fingers into the larger man's clothing and tugged him forward, when he'd first pressed lips against Harry's own and permitted him to know the taste of his mouth. 

He found he wanted such a moment again; to be able to get his hands on Eggsy's skin and know that they were _together_ , that nothing upon the world could harm them so long as they were close. 

He'd expected the young man to ease in relief, to let his tension drain with jokes and smiles much as his cousin seemed to be – but there was no such merriment upon Eggsy's face. His sharp jaw was clenched tightly, making it seem all the more prominent, and his eyes seemed to be burning a hole into Harry's very _soul_. 

The voices of the others faded into the background as they stared at each other, and Harry couldn't dismiss the thought that something... _monumental_ was upon the horizon, very likely the moment Eggsy got him alone. This was more than just a wish to reaffirm themselves physically – this was... Harry wasn't entirely sure of what _this_ was, actually. 

All he knew was that the air between them had the charge of an imminent lightning strike, and he wasn't altogether certain that he was going to survive it.

His thoughts were drawn sharply to a halt as they pulled in at the mansion's underground bunker, reluctantly tearing his eyes from the magnetism of Eggsy's steady gaze when the doors of the lorry were flung open. He could see both Merlin and Mina waiting for them, the Quartermaster's shoulders losing some of their tightness as Harry pressed himself out of the confinement of the vehicle. 

“Welcome home, Arthur.” 

“Thank you, Merlin.” He was thanking the man for more than just the greeting, and he knew that such a thing would be understood by his oldest friend. 

“Jesus, look at your fucking _face_...” Mina's quavering voice garnered their attention, the poor girl making an obvious effort to stop herself from bursting into tears. Harry couldn't much say that he blamed her – if anyone deserved to have a good cry, it most certainly would be her, after all she'd suffered. Indeed, as Harry glanced back at Asbo, he could see that where he'd been struck at some point was already darkening into a thunderous bruise, looking just as painful as it probably felt. 

“Ain't nothin', girl. Keep yer shirt on.” The boy's assurances obviously fell flat, as she gasped out a ragged breath before raising her hands to cover her face, and Harry could feel his own expression pull in sympathy just as the boy's did. Shuffling himself closer, Asbo wrapped steady arms around her small frame, weaving the fingers of one hand into her hair and pressing until her face was hidden in his shoulder. “Oi, it's alright, innit? Nobody said you wasn't allowed to cry.” Her answering mumble was unintelligible to the rest of them, but was enough for the young man to press a smiling kiss to the top of her head. 

“Head on over to Medical, yeah?” Eggsy said quietly, obviously not wanting to disturb the moment too much. He waited for his cousin's acknowledging nod before turning to Merlin. “Everythin' good here, guv?”

“Aye, we're all fine. Shall I tell Miss Daisy that it's time for that tea, finally?” Harry arched a brow in question as Eggsy shot him an indecipherable look. 

“Nah, mate. Maybe give us a bit to get changed and cleaned up, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

With that, Eggsy began walking away in the direction of the private rooms, and Harry found himself following silently. He was uncertain of the young man's mood, preferring to wait and observe in order to determine what it was that was needed of him. He'd never quite seen Eggsy like this – quiet, angry, mournful, happy, content, even _lustful_ when the mood struck – but this... this was something else. As they passed into the room that Harry typically used, he found he could keep his silence no longer.

“Eggsy, is everything quite alright?” It startled him when the boy rounded on him with his jaw clenched, looking as though only a moment away from gritting his teeth.

“No. No, Harry – everythin' _ain't_ alright.” He found himself feeling terribly wrong-footed; it almost seemed as though Eggsy was _angry_ with him, but Harry'd become well acquainted with such a thing and this wasn't quite the same. He kept himself carefully still as Eggsy came closer, uncertain whether it would be alright to touch him or not. 

He was a bit surprised when Eggsy reached out to Harry's own form, tugging the jacket off his shoulders and leaving it in a messy pile on the ground, other articles of his clothing soon following – tie, shirt, trousers, even his pants went. It was... he couldn't quite determine if this was meant to be sexual or not, a fact that he was trying very hard to remind his traitorous body of as it took an interest. The young man made no move toward disposing of his own clothing, the tactical gear remaining stark and dangerous looking against his pale skin. 

He remained passive as Eggsy pressed palms to Harry's abdomen, the heat of his skin seeming to leave trails of burning in their wake as he slowly smoothed them over the larger man's form, almost as though rediscovering him through touch alone. When Eggsy spoke, his voice was serious but quiet – hardly more than a murmur in the silence of the room.

“We realized you were gone, and it was like my whole world came crashin' down around me. Like the sun had gone from the sky, and all I'd ever be left with was the dark and cold.” 

Harry swallowed heavily, having known exactly the same feeling when it had been _Eggsy_ in danger, snatched up right in front of his eyes. One of his palms wrapped around Harry's hip, putting pressure against it until Harry stepped backwards. Eggsy moved with him, keeping up the pressure until Harry felt the edge of the mattress press against the backs of his knees. 

“Lay down, Harry.” 

After a moment's hesitation, he did as he was told, watching with no small amount of confusion and interest as the young man's own body followed him, the straps and buckles of his gear cold against Harry's nude skin. _Well... this is certainly an experience I've never had before_. There was something scintillating about being so _exposed_ whilst Eggsy remained covered from neck to wrists to ankles, and he was having a much more difficult time getting his body to _calm the bloody hell down_. 

He was still uncertain just what the young man was doing, and didn't want to make things... _uncomfortable_.

* * *

Eggsy pressed himself above Harry, that awful _need_ that had been burning within him only getting all the worse. 

He could see Harry starting to thicken up in interest, the other man looking almost _embarrassed_ by it, but for Eggsy it wasn't about that – he ached to touch him, to see Harry gorgeously flushed and coming undone and so fucking _alive_ , but as for his own body? It didn't matter, not just then. 

Pressing closer, he whispered lips against the other man's neck, feeling the steady but quick thrum of his pulse, smoothing a hand up his chest to tangle fingers in the chain that housed the small Excalibur pendant. Something almost _feral_ rose up at the sight of _his_ mark proudly displayed on Harry, and he dug teeth into the skin under his lips with a barely audible _growl_ , both hearing and feeling the gasp that it tore from Harry's throat. 

“I ain't got hardly _anythin'_ , if I ain't got you.” 

“Your family – ”

“I ain't talkin' about me fuckin' family when I got you naked under me.” 

“...right.” 

He let go of the chain and smoothed his hand southwards, wrapping around Harry while he worked on sucking a claiming bruise into the stretch of skin between neck and shoulder. Harry twitched hard at the sensation, legs falling open just enough that Eggsy could press a knee in between his thighs. With a stuttered breath, the other man's hands came up to wrap tightly in the straps of Eggsy's gear, holding on until his knuckles went white.

“You haven't got any fuckin' idea, Harry. You don't know how much I need ya, what you mean to me. It's like I can't fuckin' _breathe_ sometimes, how bad it is. I know you think this shit ain't equal, like you wanna hang onto me more'n I wanna keep you – but the thing is, Harry? I'd burn the entire fuckin' earth down if I had to. Just for you, only for you.” 

Harry's breaths grew to panting as Eggsy twisted his wrist, following the flush that bloomed on all the skin underneath him with a hungry gaze.

“Will you... not... get undressed?” He took pride in how stuttered Harry's breath was, how much effort it seemed to take for him to get the question out. 

“Nah. This is for you, Harry. Only for you.” 

“But...”

“Shush.” He tightened his grip just a bit, getting the feeling that they wouldn't be at it for long. Already he was leaking, making the slide of Eggsy's hand deliciously slick as he slid one knee forward, forcing Harry's leg to curl over his own thigh. 

“I love you so fuckin' much, Harry. So much that some days it seems completely fuckin' _terrifyin'_ , and I don't always know what ta do about it.” 

He leant forward for a hard kiss, drinking in the taste of Harry on his tongue and reveling in the heat of him, the sweat beginning to pool on his body. He let them break apart long moments later, gasping into each other's mouths as Eggsy pressed their foreheads together. 

“ _Eggsy..._ ” 

“Come on, love. Let it go – I got you.” 

He felt the grip of Harry's teeth in the material at his shoulder just as the rest of him began to quake, hard pulses throbbing against his hand as the other man spilled out onto his own stomach. 

“There you are, gorgeous...” He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of Harry's neck as gave the man a moment to recover. 

He could feel that feral thing within him beginning to calm, settling with the knowledge that Harry was _there_ , warm and alive and so fucking perfect under his hands. When the other man's tenseness melted, his body relaxing back into the soft sheets, Eggsy ran sticky fingers back up his chest – and immediately felt his breath stutter as Harry caught said hand, raising it to his own mouth to suck Eggsy's fingers clean. 

_Fuckin' Christ, this man'll be the death of me_.

“Harry.” He mentally scolded himself to get back on track, as his fingers were released with an almost _obscene_ noise. “Look at me.” 

He waited until the warm darkness of Harry's eyes lost their hazy look, sharpening to Eggsy's own with growing curiosity. Pressing one last kiss to the other man's lips – mostly just because he couldn't help himself – he rose to sitting and pulled Harry up with him. 

“I realized somethin', while you were gone.” Harry blinked at him, but was obviously waiting for Eggsy to elaborate. “I realized that I've been a completely selfish _prick_ , where it comes to you.” 

“I... I'm afraid I don't understand?” That much was obvious for Eggsy to see, from the look on his face. He raised his hands, cupping Harry's cheeks and letting two fingers trail lightly over the scar tissue at the man's temple, remembering a time when doing such a small thing seemed like the most important moment in the world. 

“Harry... you're such a _good_ man, and you can't ever seem to see that for yourself. You worry all the time about me, and what I need, and you don't _ever_ ask for nothin'... even when you wanna, even when you _should_. And it took me way too fuckin' long to see that.” 

He could see it in the look in Harry's eyes, the way that he wanted to argue, to tell Eggsy that he had it all wrong and that he really wasn't all that great. 

“You came fuckin' swoopin' in, and you made my life so much better; not even just 'cos you bailed me out and brought me here, but because you helped me see that I could make _myself_ into someone I could actually be fuckin' proud of – that I could have all the things for me and my family that I'd always wanted, and that I could get those things with me own two fuckin' hands. I can actually look meself in the mirror and like what I see, and I got there because of _you_.” 

Eggsy could feel himself getting choked up, could see that Harry was the same. 

“I'm keepin' ya, Harry. For as long as you'll fuckin' let me.” Harry let out a huff of a laugh.

“I daresay that would be close to forever, my dear.” Eggsy looked him dead in the eyes, feeling like he might very well burn alive with all that he was feeling. 

“Forever, then. Marry me.”


	24. Chapter 24

It was as though time itself suddenly jerked into stillness.

Harry was powerless to do anything but stare at Eggsy, hardly daring to even _breathe_. Because surely... _surely_ he hadn't heard that correctly.

“I... _what_?!” It had slipped out of his mouth disbelievingly before he'd even realized it.

“Not exactly the answer I was lookin' for, love.” Despite the words, Eggsy's face was soft with the barest quirk of amusement at the corner of his lips. “Alright, c'mere.” Still feeling the effects of his shock, Harry found himself uncharacteristically pliable as the younger man pulled him to standing, nudging his form toward the attached bath whilst simultaneously beginning to finally dispose of his own clothing. 

“I... what are...?” 

“We're gonna have a shower, because we both fuckin' need it – you gotta tell Merlin to make this gear more fuckin' _breathable_ , Christ – and we can talk about it while we get clean, yeah?” Harry stood off to the side like a dolt while Eggsy began running the water and finding cloths and soap, his mind abuzz with terribly conflicting thoughts. 

Had Eggsy _really_ just proposed to him? He would have been prone to thinking it'd merely been some kind of stress-induced fever dream, had it not been for the younger man's own behaviour since then. 

When he'd first returned from Kentucky, he'd hoped very much that Eggsy would be able to see past his anger and permit Harry to have his friendship; it had seemed unfathomable that the young man would be interested in anything more – given both his trauma and Harry's age – so when Eggsy had first kissed him, he'd taken it as the divine offering it was. 

That they'd passed more than a year together had seemed astounding; Harry hadn't _dared_ to be so selfish as to wish for _more_. Though he'd rather face another bullet to the head than admit it, there had been nights – nights when left alone whilst Eggsy was off saving the world, even nights filled with the quiet sound of the boy's breathing beside him – where in the darkest hours Harry had toyed with the thoughts of _what if_?

It had always been Harry's most fervent desire to one day have a home, a husband, a family. The revelation may have shocked some (given the kind of violence that he could revel in) but at the base of it all, he'd always been much more _domestically_ inclined than he'd led others to believe. It had been almost a _defiance_ , when he'd been younger – the heterosexuals got to have all these things, so why couldn't he? – but as time had passed and he'd failed to find any kind of lasting relationship, he'd reluctantly admitted to himself that perhaps his dreams of family life were merely not meant to be. 

He'd consoled himself with the thought that his line of work more than likely would have only put his family at risk, regardless. Lee Unwin had been the ultimate cautionary tale, in such a case – a wife abandoned, a child newly fatherless... Would it not have been selfish for Harry to create such attachments for himself, only to possibly die on them in the same way? And so he'd persisted in his exciting but dreadfully lonely life, burying those desires deep within a heart that was slowly turning to stone.

Until Eggsy.

If one were to divide Harry's life by it's momentous events, there would be really only three categories: _Before Kingsman_ , _After Kingsman_ , and _Eggsy_. Meeting Eggsy (for the second time, technically) had – unbeknownst to him in the moment – been perhaps the _most_ significant turning point in his existence. 

Eggsy had brought with him laughter, pride, and the kind of easy companionship that Harry'd never before experienced in his life. Eggsy brought care, support, and unwavering loyalty. He'd brought life into Harry's dusty old home, a beautiful child he could call family, and the kind of domesticity that his weathered heart had secretly craved. 

True, the home had been _his_ – but Eggsy had revived it into something new. They weren't _husbands_ , but they lived so very much like they were, that Harry'd been content. The child wasn't _his_ child, but Daisy brought a light into his life like no other. Harry'd been willing to trade the title of _father_ for _brother_ , if it meant getting to keep all of the Unwins for himself. 

“Come on, love. In we get.” Harry blinked himself out of his thoughts at Eggsy's gentle nudge to his back, urging him under the steaming water and pressing himself in afterwards. Harry ran eyes over his beloved face, feeling uncertain and entirely out of his depth.

“You've never...” He let the words trail off, not knowing how to voice that Eggsy'd never shown an interest in marriage so Harry'd assumed it wasn't an option, without the words coming out sounding harsh and accusatory – which was the furthest thing from what he intended. The young man huffed out a breath, bringing a soapy cloth to Harry's stomach and beginning to wipe him clean. 

“I know. The thing is... I guess to me gettin' married never seemed like such a big thing, yeah? My parents had it good, while they had it. But then with mum marryin' Dean, and that was just a fuckin' _disaster_ , right. It just sort of seemed to me that bein' married was just... _paper_. Like, you could live your life exactly the same, without all the fuss, and be happy if you wanted to. I'd look at some o' these celebrities or whatever in the news, and you'd see what they'd spend just on a fuckin' _weddin'_ , and it'd be like... you could feed so many fuckin' people with that money. You could do so many other things with it – it just seemed... I dunno. _Unnecessary_.” 

Harry could concede that it was a very valid point – some couples _could_ rather take the whole thing to extremes. 

“But then I got to thinkin', yeah? While you was... well. And I realized that you'd said things before that maybe meant that you liked the whole... _marriage_ thing, like maybe it was somethin' you wanted. And I knew that you wasn't the type to ever ask me for it, because you never ask for _anythin'_. Bloody stubborn, you are.” 

“But if you do not wish – ” 

“But that's just it, Harry. I _do_ wish. Lemme finish gettin' it out, alright. I realized that I already had everythin' I'd never even _known_ I'd wanted, and I was so fuckin' happy; so why shouldn't I give you somethin' you want? Especially somethin' like _this_? Because the reality is, I'm keepin' ya – just like I said – for as long as you'd let me have you. And if that's gonna be forever, than forever it fuckin' is. And if I'm keepin' ya that long anyways, there ain't no reason why I shouldn't marry ya.” 

“I've been perfectly content – ”

“I know you have, and that you'd never say otherwise. But this is somethin' that I wanna give the _both_ of us, if you feel like sayin' _yes_ to it. 'Cos if I've learned anythin' about myself when it comes to you, Harry... it's that I can be a _possessive_ little shit, and as much as I don't really fuss for weddin's and the like, I can't say that I don't like the thought of havin' it down on paper that you're _mine_.” 

Harry felt a shiver chase down his spine at the words, bringing a hand up to cradle Eggsy's cheek. 

“I feel as though perhaps I've somehow _always_ been yours, my dear.” 

“Marry me, then.” Harry stared into burning green eyes, seeing easily the steel core that often lay buried deep within him, hiding.

“ _Yes, Eggsy_.”

* * *

As certain as Eggsy'd been that Harry wouldn't tell him 'no', he couldn't help the complete fucking _relief_ that washed over him at finally hearing an acceptance. He was man enough to admit that he'd been very close to pissing himself from the nerves that had suddenly risen up. 

_Holy fuck, I just actually fuckin' proposed to him_.

Unable to stop the idiotic grin spreading over his face, he rose quickly to his toes to press a hard kiss to Harry's lips, it ending with the two of them laughing breathlessly. The smile slowly died off Eggsy's face as a thought suddenly occurred to him. 

“So, er... Because apparently there ain't a nice moment that I can't find a way to ruin...” Harry _tsk_ ed, chastising him for saying so, but Eggsy winced anyways. “I, uh... don't actually have a ring for you yet?” Harry's surprised laughter had him relaxing the muscles that had tensed with his uneasiness. 

“There is no rush, dearest.” He assured easily, and Eggsy could feel himself smile. 

“Alright, enough fuckin' around then. We got a tea date with a princess to get to.”

“Just any old princess, or with _our_ princess?” Eggsy's grin only widened.

“ _Ours_ , o'course.” 

“Then we must make haste.” 

Ultimately they'd decided to hold off on telling the others about Eggsy's proposing, mostly just because Eggsy's pride was demanding that Harry have some kind of ring to show off first. He wasn't gonna have everyone knowing he'd somehow turned into _that_ kind of prick that gets engaged without even picking out a fucking ring first.

What could he say? It'd seemed so important at the time to do it, and do it _right away_. He'd worry about the rest later. 

After getting dressed in casual clothes – Eggsy wrapping Harry into one of those grandad cardis that he loved so much for some fucking reason – they took the time to rub some of the warming cream into the older man's obviously aching hands, Eggsy glaring him into taking some of the painkillers as well. 

He'd found himself distracted all through tea with Daisy and his mum, the happy noises of the little girl finally getting to see Harry like she'd wanted filtering through his ears as he thought over his newest problem – a ring for Harry. All of the sudden, it seemed like a much bigger thing than it had before; there were just so many _options_ , yeah?

Would Harry like something sentimental more? Should he try to find out if Harry's dad's ring was still kicking around somewhere? Lee's had been buried with him, so that wasn't really an option and to be honest he didn't think that would've been the best idea anyways. Or would it be better to buy something new? But if he was gonna do that, _what_ should he buy? How was he supposed to know what was the _right_ one, the _perfect_ one?

Fucking Christ, what had he just gotten himself into?

He was still mulling it over later that evening as he trudged his way down to Medical to check on Dennis and Mina, anxious that more internal damage had been done to his cousin than they were aware of. He rounded the open doorway, greeted with the sight of Dennis shirtless and looking halfway to sleep, head nestled in Mina's lap while she held a cold pack to the side of his face that had been hit. The beating he'd received had obviously been focused mainly on his stomach, dark and thunderous bruising already laid out across the exposed skin and looking beyond painful.

“He'll be alright.” Mina said quietly, though it was apparently still enough to rouse his cousin from the half-sleep he'd been in. 

“Hey, Eggs.” 

“How ya feelin', bruv?”

“Like shite. So pretty normal, right.” Eggsy frowned, but conceded the point. There wasn't a day on the Estates free of bruising or injury of some kind, for most. 

“Tell me you ain't gotta go runnin' off to work tomorrow.”

“Nah, bruv. White Watch ain't back on shift until the day after, so we're good.” 

“Not like I'd _let_ him go in to work like this anyways.” Mina muttered under her breath, making both of the boys smile. Dennis raised a hand, twisting his fingers into the ends of her hair. 

“Bossy little bint, aren't ya.”

“It's why we're friends.” 

“Ain't _that_ the fuckin' truth.” Eggsy shared their laugh, coming further into the room to sit himself on the bed near Dennis' hip, looking at the knight tattoo on his arm and thinking about his dad, about family. 

“Hey, Denny?” His cousin answered with a _hmm_ , before yawning and closing his eyes. “When you decided you wanted to get a tattoo for me dad, why'd you pick the knight?” 

“Sort of easy, weren't it? He was always tellin' us stories about King Arthur and the like. They were my best memories of Uncle Lee. Dunno, just seemed to fit for him, somehow.” 

“But how'd you know that you'd picked the _right_ thing? Like, didn't you ever worry that you'd made the wrong choice and it weren't as perfect as it could be?” Dennis' eyes cracked back open, looking at Eggsy narrowly. 

“What's goin' on bruv?” Where Dennis looked suspicious, Mina was beginning to grin gleefully. 

“You actually did it, didn't you!” She giggled, and his cousin raised a brow in question. 

“I asked Harry to marry me.” He enjoyed the shock that overtook the other boy's face, he couldn't lie. 

“Fuckin' _hell_ , Eggs!” Eggsy worried for a minute that Dennis had decided he didn't like Harry after all, before he continued. “When the fuck did we get so old that we's gettin' _married_ of all fuckin' things?!” Eggsy had to laugh, bringing a hand up to rub over his own hair.

“I know, right. But now I got a problem.”

“What's that?”

“I gotta get him a ring or summat, right? But how am I supposed to know when I've got the _right_ one?” Dennis seemed to be giving it some genuine thought, which surprised Eggsy a little. 

“I say go with yer gut, yeah? Like try not to think on it too hard, or you're just gonna talk yourself in circles. I think when you find it, you'll just _know_. It'll just seem to _fit_ , right?” 

“I guess so.” Dennis clapped a hand on his bent knee, while Mina reached over to squeeze his fingers.

“It'll be okay, Eggsy. You'll find something perfect, I'm sure of it.”

“Thanks, love.”

* * *

Their debrief with all the Knights involved in his retrieval at the Round Table the next morning was fairly standard, except for one rather annoying factor. 

“Good morning, _Guinevere_.”

“Of course, _Guinevere_.”

“Whatever our _Queen_ commands.” 

Harry'd honestly thought that he'd made his opinion on the 'alternate title' that they'd given Eggsy quite clear ages beforehand, when he'd first heard of it – back at the beginning of their relationship, when (he suspected) Roxy had begun calling him such as a tease. 

It chafed at Harry, as he felt as though their use of the name was intended to in some way insinuate that Eggsy was _lesser_ – that he perhaps enjoyed the position he did because of his relationship with Harry, rather than because of his own dedication and hard work. The year previous, when he'd first heard its use, Harry had stated in no uncertain terms that Eggsy was to be referred to only by the title that he'd earned – that of _Excalibur_ – and if he caught wind of anyone showing such disrespect again, there would be consequences. 

This is why he was positively baffled and no small amount perturbed that it had seemed to make a comeback. To his credit, Eggsy seemed to be taking the ribbing in stride, but with every use of it Harry was growing steadily more grim. 

As the debrief drew to a close, Eggsy excused himself to go take care of an 'errand' – so he said – and Harry chose his departure to finally turn his disapproval upon the others. 

“One last matter to discuss,” He stopped their rustlings, even Merlin looking at him in slight surprise. He waited until he had the attention of all before continuing. “I had initially thought I'd made my thoughts upon the use of ' _Guinevere_ ' quite clear, but I see that perhaps that had not been the case.” Harry was surprised when – of _all_ people – it was Percival that spoke up.

“Forgive me, Arthur, but I feel as though you misunderstand.” Harry could feel one of his brows raise, a warning that his patience was thin and to tread lightly. “Though it may be true that initially the Knights had begun calling Excalibur by the name in an effort to tease him, such is not the case currently.” The other Knights around the table nodded in agreement, Roxy looking slightly abashed at her hand in it. 

“How so?”

“From the moment it was discovered that you'd been taken,” Merlin spoke up, his voice much more grave than Harry'd anticipated. “Excalibur stepped in to take control of the situation.” Harry knew from Eggsy's telling of the events that there'd been a small moment of personal crisis at the beginning, but from all accounts he'd found the strength to overcome it and do what was needed. 

“Yes, Sir.” Percival continued. “In the absence of our leader, Excalibur took on responsibility of not only the details of your retrieval, but of Kingsman itself; he knew what agents were available, which were occupied and where, and he knew immediately off the top of his head what resources were accessible to us. He led this team, gave us orders that were in Kingsman's best interest – not merely his own – and it was because of his leadership that we were able to come away from that building with both the information we needed to close Lancelot's case as well as our King alive and intact.”

Harry'd known that Eggsy had a habit of memorizing his list of available agents and equipment, which the boy claimed to do because he felt that the position of Arthur could be far too stressful at times for Harry, who was unused to sitting stagnant in an office day in and day out. For how long had Eggsy been assisting him with the running of Kingsman without Harry having been fully aware of it? Now that it had been brought to his attention, he could recall several moments when he'd musingly said aloud at home that perhaps he would assign a particular mission to agent so-and-so, only for Eggsy to speak up and tell him _You can't do that love, they're headed to Borneo in two days, remember?_

“...I see.” 

“We've been jokingly referring to him as _Guinevere_ not in an effort to make light of his relationship with you, Sir – but rather because when Kingsman was pressed for leadership, he stepped into your place almost as easy as breathing. Like a Queen in the absence of her King.” 

“We mean it as a sign of _respect_ , Sir.” Elyan piped up, looking worried. 

“I know that you are all aware that Kingsman's _actual_ second-in-command is Merlin.” Harry observed sternly, though internally he was feeling rather conflicted about the whole affair. 

“And had I thought he was doing things against the best interests of Kingsman, I would have stepped in.” Merlin replied lightly, though Harry knew the man well enough to recognize the truth of his statement. “The boy may be half the age of some of us, but he's got a good head on his shoulders for tactics. He proved that well enough during V-Day, and he's continued to prove it since.” 

“...Then, I suppose, there is no harm in the moniker. Provided that Excalibur shows no objection to it. Just do keep in mind what his _actual_ title is during missions, if you please.” 

It was later that night, when they were both cozy within their bed at home, that Harry found the nerve to bring the matter up with the young man himself. He hadn't been sure what Eggsy's reaction to it all would be, but once he'd told him of the Knights' explanation that _Guinevere_ was meant as a nod to his leadership skills, Eggsy's cheeks had turned a fetching shade of pink and he'd buried his face into his pillow in embarrassment.

“It weren't... I wasn't tryin' to take over your job, you know. I was just... I was so focused on gettin' the two o' ya back that I guess I was just sort of barkin' out orders without thinkin' about it. I wanted so bad to just bust in there and raise hell ta get to ya, but I kept thinkin' that you wouldn've wanted it like that – you'd've wanted things done proper, like gettin' the information we needed so we could close the case and rescue all the other people they'd taken. I just wanted ta do you proud, Harry.” He could feel something within himself soften with the words.

“Oh, my dear.” He said, using a gentle hand to lift Eggsy's face more clearly into the dim light. He cradled the young man's cheeks, his entire world held captive in his palms. “ _My brand Excalibur, which was my pride_.” Eggsy huffed a small laugh.

“Did you just seriously quote _[The Death of Arthur](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idylls_of_the_King)_ at me?” 

“Yes, as I thought the words particularly apt. I have _always_ been so very proud of you, Eggsy. You have never to fear that.” 

“I got somethin' for ya.” Harry blinked as Eggsy jerked away, his hands suddenly empty. It was but a moment for the young man to pull something from his night table drawer, returning with a slightly nervous smile. “So, er... You prob'ly already know what this is. But... I hope it's okay?” 

Harry could feel a fond smile pulling to his lips as he took the dark blue velvet box from Eggsy's notably shaking fingers. Growing unaccountably nervous himself, Harry raised the lid of the box, feeling his breath catch. 

It wasn't that Harry was overly one for jewellery, outside of the necessities of his Kingsman equipment. It wasn't even that the ring itself was some overly intricate and stunning piece of art. Rather, it was the momentousness of the occasion itself, perhaps even more so than when Eggsy'd actually proposed to him. Because somehow the presence of the ring seemed to... _solidify_ the whole affair – it instantly became somehow more _real_. 

Resting upon the cushion was a lovely [little piece of black and gold](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/e3/45/5b/e3455b6866f0523c36ce93d616a70305.jpg), the simplicity of the design appealing to Harry's own tastes even as the colouring reminded him so very much of Eggsy himself – that horrid jacket he favoured, in particular. In his mind's eye, he remembered teaching Eggsy how to make martinis while the gold stripes of the polo he'd worn underneath the jacket contrasted against the black of the rest of the shirt, drawing Harry's attention to the strength of his exposed arms and the paleness of his soft skin. The combination of black and gold would probably make Harry think of nothing but Eggsy until his dying day, even more so now.

“Is it... er... alright?” Eggsy sounded on the verge of regretting the whole thing, and Harry wondered how long he'd been staring at it in silence.

“ _Perfect_ ,” He murmured, swallowing around the emotion clogging his throat. “it's absolutely _perfect_.” Eggsy's relieved breath was almost comical, and Harry turned the box toward him. “Would you do me the honour, my dear?” 

The grin that spread across the young man's face was positively _breathtaking_ , and for perhaps the first time it occurred to Harry that he was going to get to keep him – _really_ keep him – for the rest of his days. _How on this earth have I been so fortunate?_ Eggsy tugged the ring out of the box, sliding it onto Harry's finger and looking so unabashedly pleased with himself. 

“I'll be honest,” He said quietly. “I didn't have a single fuckin' clue what I was lookin' for. I didn't know if you'd want somethin' old for like, sentimental reasons, or if it'd be best to go buy somethin'. But then I started thinkin' that I guess I wanted somethin' _new_ , somethin' that would be just for _us_ , you know? I saw this one, and I just kept comin' back to it fer some reason. Guess I figured that meant it had to be _the one_ , yeah?”

“You supposed quite right, my dear.” 

When they finally fell into sleep that night, Harry marveled over the fact that he was sleeping beside his _fiancé_. If only there were a way to go back in time and tell his younger self that the long years of waiting would be worth it.

That Eggsy was worth _everything_.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spoiler Warning:** _MAJOR _spoilers for the plot of "The Smoke" in this chapter. Like... pretty much all main points of Dennis' character.__

It just so happened that the morning after finally getting his ring on Harry's finger was the scheduled monthly meeting of the _whole_ Round Table – agents away on missions attending virtually through their glasses – and Eggsy found himself at a loss.

Mainly because only a few moments after Harry'd entered the room – the last to arrive, as usual – complete and utter pandemonium had broken out.

“I'll take my five-hundred pounds, Bedivere.” Percival had stated, seemingly from nowhere, which had ignited the rest of the table into exclamations of disbelief and shouts of outrage.

“What the actual fuck is goin' on here?!” Eggsy had been too shocked by the display to remember to use his posh 'working' voice, and Harry merely sighed before floating gracefully down into his seat.

“If you'd all come to some _order_.” It was amazing, the effect Harry's quiet but stern voice could have; they all quieted down almost _instantly_. “An explanation. Now.” They all remained shiftily silent – probably because none of them wanted to face Harry's wrath – until Roxy let out a put-upon sigh. 

“We had a betting pool running as to which of the two of you would be the first to propose, as well as when it would happen. It seems Uncle Alistair won.” Eggsy wasn't certain whether he felt more incensed over the fact that they were being bet on in the first place, or the fact that Roxy apparently lost.

“You're me best mate... How the fuck did you _lose_ , Rox?” She raised one perfectly trimmed brow at him, not looking overly sorry.

“To be honest, I didn't think you'd ever find the bollocks to do it.” The table erupted in laughter as Eggsy made an outraged face at her. Seeing a wad of notes get passed to Percival – who was attending in the flesh, unlike some of the others – made a question occur to him.

“No offense, guv...” Eggsy started, curiosity overtaking his piqued pride at Roxy's comment. “But how is it that _you're_ the one that won?” His curiosity only grew when Percival and Harry seemed to share a rueful, but somehow _sad_ , look. 

“It was no great leap to know that a proposal would come from the more impulsive and brash one, more than likely just after some kind of bodily threat to the other.” The answer was unsatisfying, but he caught the expression on Harry's face that promised an explanation later. 

“If you're all quite finished,” The man intoned dryly. “shall we move on with the actual intended purpose of this meeting?” 

It was hours later, when Eggsy and Harry were taking a quiet moment to themselves to have tea in the gardens, that he got the full picture; Harry explained that he hadn't been the only closeted gay man in Kingsman back in the day – in fact, so had been Percival and the previous Lancelot, James. 

“I suppose you could say that the three of us were quite fond of trying to shake things up around here, in our own little ways; James loved railing against the Kingsman dress code by wearing whatever abominable fashion he could get his hands on, and quite frequently forewent wearing his glasses. Percival was much more prone to 'towing the line', as it were, but always pushed hard for female candidates when it came to recruitment – Roxy was his first success in convincing Arthur to allow one. He'd always felt that the sexism in this organization needed to be addressed. And I... well. I believe you're well aware that I took issue with the classicist ideals that Kingsman had come to embrace over the years.”

“First with dad, then me.”

“Yes, quite. James had been an incorrigible flirt from day one, his target most often Alistair when the others weren't looking; it wasn't safe, especially with Chester in charge, to be open about such things. There was a mission some years ago that went awry, and for a time it looked as though Alistair wasn't going to make it. James was beside himself – I believe he blamed himself a great deal for not being there, despite the fact that he'd already been on assignment halfway across the world – and upon Alistair's return, had insisted on proposing him marriage.”

“It weren't legal then, right?”

“Not in England, no. James had tried to convince Alistair to have a quiet ceremony in a country that _would_ allow same-sex unions, but Alistair was insistent that they wouldn't marry until they could do so at home.” Eggsy frowned.

“But that didn't get legalized here until into 2014, innit?” 

“Yes. They hadn't even reached their first wedding anniversary before James was killed by Gazelle. Alistair was utterly devastated by his death, but given the secretive nature of their union, he was forced to act as though he felt nothing more than the loss of a fellow agent.” Eggsy couldn't even imagine losing Harry, and having to carry on like it was business as usual – he sure as fuck hadn't been able to do it the first time, had he? Percival was a lot stronger than Eggsy'd ever attributed to the often quiet man. 

“So he figured he knew how to win that bet because he'd thought we'd be a lot like him and James?”

“I suppose so, my dear. Though, I would have to say, James would have utterly _adored_ your sense of fashion.” 

Eggsy couldn't help but share his laugh, figuring that if anyone had landed the spot of Lancelot because his dad had died before getting it, he was glad it hadn't been a prick like the rest of them.

* * *

Their discussion of James and Alistair that morning had drawn Harry's thoughts to another often quiet and secretive young man. 

He was gratified when his arrival at the door in Medical brought only easy greetings, hoping that Mina was perhaps finding some peace in the fact that her abusers had been brought to justice. She no longer seemed to shy away from Harry's presence, though he wasn't going to be so foolish as to attempt to press his luck there – he still made sure to keep a certain amount of distance between them, worried that too close a proximity would throw her back into unease. 

“How are you feeling today, Asbo?” He inquired, concerned over the thunderously dark bruising showing on the boy's bare stomach. He noticed with a small frown that the young man seemed to almost _scramble_ into a shirt at Harry's arrival, though it was obvious that he was trying to affect an air of not caring. 

“Same shit, diff'rent day, guv.” And _that_ kind of cavalier attitude was precisely what assured Harry that he was making the right decision. He'd told himself whilst they'd both been restrained that he would have a long talk with the boy about his apparent lack of concern over himself and his well-being, and he was determined now to see it through. 

“I was wondering if I might have the pleasure of your company for an hour or so, provided Miss Mina has no objection to letting you go.” There was the briefest of pauses, before the boy shrugged easily and turned to the girl in question. 

“I'm fine here for a time.” She said, watching her companion carefully as though trying to determine if that'd been the right thing to say or not. She eased when he only shrugged again, sliding off the gurney bed and walking towards Harry with his hands balled tightly in his pockets. 

“Sure, guv. Whatever.” 

Harry took them to the roof of the mansion, thinking that perhaps the young man would enjoy the overhead view of the grounds, if nothing else. They were both quiet for a moment, leaning easily against the balustrade while Harry tried to determine how best to broach the topic. Asbo absentmindedly pulled out his cigarettes, before freezing and looking at the older man in question.

“By all means.” Harry gestured vaguely with one hand, knowing that the smell of the smoke would mean a trip to the cleaners for his suit, but thinking it best to have the boy as at ease as possible. 

“So you gonna spit it out, or we just gonna stand here all day?” Asbo muttered around the cigarette [as he worked on lighting it](http://www.jamiebamberfan.com/cpg15jbphoto/albums/userpics/10001/normal_thesmoke-102-045.jpg), and Harry huffed a quiet laugh. 

“Very well, as you wish. I find myself concerned about something, and I'm uncertain how best to go about resolving my concern.” Asbo frowned, taking a deep inhale of smoke before answering. 

“Concerned about somethin' with Eggsy?”

“No. Concerned about _you_.”

“ _Me_?! Guv, ain't nothin' about me that you need ta be worryin' over.” 

“And yet my concern persists. I told you yesterday that should you find yourself in need of a sounding board, I would be more than willing to listen. I realize that it may have been presumptuous of me to offer, given that in the grand scheme of things we hardly know one another, but I suppose I'm hopeful that you will see fit to do so.” There was a long moment of silence as the boy seemed to contemplate something; perhaps he was trying to judge Harry's seriousness in the offer – it was so dreadfully difficult to tell with him. 

All of a sudden, there came a change to his demeanor – his face pulled into a pained grimace just before he ducked to hide the expression, raising shaking hands to his head as the lit cigarette fell to the rooftop. There came a sharp, wet gasp of breath and Harry startled. _Dear lord, what has the boy been hiding?_

“I fucked up real bad, guv.” Harry's concern only mounted, and he took a step forward as his hands automatically began to reach to comfort, forcing himself to still at the last moment as he was unsure if it was alright to touch him. 

“Can you tell me?” There came another wet draw of breath, and Harry thought that it must be quite serious indeed for the normally gruff boy to actually be crying. 

“It was my fault! I killed somebody – I killed a _baby_!” The blood seemed to freeze in Harry's veins at the confession, but if he was certain of anything it was that the boy couldn't be some willful _murderer_ ; there had to be more to the story.

“Take a moment, and then give me the details. I can help you.” 

“I had a mate, 'Gog' we all call him. He's got run o' the Estate 'cos he's right mad and nobody ever wants ta cross him. He got into it with this bird named Rosa, and he come get me one night and told me I had ta keep watch for him, that he wanted to mess her place up a little to give her a bit of a scare.” Harry could feel his mouth pull in anger.

“Go on.” 

“I didn't think it was right, I _swear_ , Guv. But he was always spendin' time in me flat around me mum, and I knew if I didn't do what he said he'd take it out on her, yeah? So's I stood at the door and kept watch, and he came runnin' back out, but... I swore I could smell paraffin on him. And then next thing I knew the whole fuckin' place was on fire, and I could hear Rosa's baby _screamin'_ , and I didn't think twice I just started runnin' into the flames.” He drew a shaking breath before continuing, and Harry kept silent. 

“I was takin' her outta her crib when a fireman come into the room, but before I could do nothin' Gog came jumpin' in outta nowhere and starts... starts just _beatin'_ on the fireman! And I knew he was gonna just fuckin' kill him, so's I put the baby back down and I grab onto Gog and I'm tryin' to pull him away from the bloke, right. Only somehow the three o' us end up sort of tangled, and Gog gets loose and legs it, leavin' me there with the fireman just grabbin' onto me. I didn't know what to do and I was fuckin' _scared_ , so I got meself free and I just took off.”

“What happened then?”

“The stairs had collapsed. The fireman and Rosa's baby were both trapped... baby died, and the bloke had bad burns all over his body. So bad that they wasn't sure he was even gonna make it for awhile. I got into the Watch while he was still recoverin'... I been tryin' ta make it up since, but all I ever do is fuck things up. _It's all my fault_.” 

Harry could scarcely imagine the kind of strain that the young man had been under all this time, and then to add his recent kidnapping and his concern for Mina on top of it all... The poor lad. 

“Though I won't say I completely condone some of your actions, I _will_ say that the blame hardly rests with you.”

“I shouldn've done what he told me that night.”

“But you did so solely out of fear for your mother's well-being, and under the assumption that what he intended to do wasn't going to lead to bodily harm. If you'd known that he intended to light fire to the flat, would you have still gone along with it?”

“ _Fuck_ no! Never!” The outrage on the boy's flushed face was genuine. 

“Thank you for confiding in me.”

“I just can't fuckin' take this anymore, Guv. Think I'd rather be dead.” And therein lay the problem. 

“I assure you that Eggsy had moments where he thought the same, and yet look at where he is now.” 

“Eggsy's stronger than I am. I think Eggsy's prob'ly stronger than _anybody_.” 

“And I think you do yourself too little credit.” Asbo blinked at him in surprise. 

“I don't get it. You keep sayin' these things like you think I'm actually a good person, or... I dunno. Like I'm _worth_ somethin', and it ain't true.” 

“A difference of opinion, then. Am I not permitted to think highly of my soon-to-be cousin?” There was a wry smile on Harry's lips, and the boy's eyes flicked down to the ring on his finger before he huffed a breath, pulling out a new cigarette and lighting it. 

“He was nearly pissin' himself over what ta buy ya, you know.” They were silent for a moment before Harry chose to break it. 

“If there is any way that I can be of assistance... Kingsman's resources are many.” There was a long, drawn out moment while Asbo stared out at the grounds, the expression on his face one of serious contemplation.

“Thanks, but I think I gotta deal with this one meself. And er... don't tell Eggsy, alright?”

“As you wish, Asbo.”

“You can call me 'Dennis', since we's gonna be family and all.”

They stood in silence some moments longer, Harry knowing that now was not the time to push the boy too hard.

* * *

“Mum. Mum. _Mum, for fuck's sakes_!” Michelle stopped her chattering mid-sentence, blinking at Eggsy in surprise.

“What's got ya in a twist, babes?”

“You literally just found out I got engaged _today_ , and yer already talkin' about florists.” She scoffed, turning her attention on her tea while Eggsy shifted Daisy on his lap so that he no longer had a bony little knee gouging into his kidney. 

“Don't tell me you two are gonna drag this out!” 

“Well we haven't really talked about it yet, have we?” 

“Haven't talked about what?” Harry's voice from the doorway brought Eggsy's head around with a smile, which faded slightly at the expression on the man's face. Oh, he was covering it well enough that Michelle and Daisy probably wouldn't notice something was off, but Eggsy could see the telltale pull around his eyes that meant he was worrying about something. 

“Oh, I was just tellin' Eggsy about a nice new florist that opened up on Oxford Street not that long ago.” Harry's smiled turned more genuine as he shot a look at Eggsy.

“I see.” The older man took the other seat of the small settee that he was on, bringing with him the faint smell of cigarette smoke.

“How's Denny doin'?” Harry flicked a look at Daisy, before obviously choosing his words carefully.

“As well as to be expected, I suppose. Though I'd thought it might be nice to... introduce him to Gaius.”

“Who's that?” Daisy asked innocently, and Eggsy couldn't help but snort a laugh.

“That nice old man that sneaks you sweets whenever he thinks I'm not lookin'.” 

“Oh. I like him.”

“I bet ya do, Flower.” 

“So when's the weddin' gonna be then?” Michelle asked with an excited smile. “Need to know what kind of time frame we's lookin' at, don't we?” Eggsy and Harry exchanged a look, before Eggsy shrugged.

“I mean... Sort of up to you, love. Don't really matter to me one way or t'other how soon it is.” He frowned as a thought occurred to him. “Though I s'pose all them caterers and whatever the fuck else might sort of say how long away it's got to be, yeah?” 

Eggsy worried for a moment that he was sounding a bit too... _uncaring_ , when Harry's eyes dropped down to his cup of tea. There was a minute of awkward silence before Harry cleared his throat.

“I'd actually... I'd had some thoughts about that, dearest.” Eggsy raised a brow in question; Harry sounded almost _uncertain_. 

_Please don't tell me he's havin' cold feet already_.

“I've been giving some contemplation to what you said before about the unnecessary excesses that weddings usually produce, and I was thinking... that perhaps we could have something small here in the gardens? It's your favourite place, after all. I know that Gloria and the others from the staff would take no small delight in handling a cake and catering for us, and I'd thought that perhaps we could instead donate the money that we _would_ have spent to some charitable venture of your choosing.” 

Eggsy stared at the other man in shock, completely overwhelmed. In his mind he heard his own voice complaining _You could feed so many people with that money_ , and he was utterly undone by how selfless Harry was being, taking his feelings about it into account like that. 

“I... You sure you wanna do that, Harry? I mean... that'd be great, yeah. But – ”

“Eggsy.” He stopped talking, drinking in the wry twist to Harry's lips. “I'm getting married, to a man I love, which is far more than I'd ever thought possible. To be frank, I couldn't care any less about _how_ the thing gets done.” 

“Oh stop it, you two!” Michelle said with a watery smile. “You put the rest o' us to shame, bein' so sweet like that.” 

“Can I be in the weddin'?” Harry smiled softly down at Daisy.

“But of course, my darling. We'd hardly _dare_ to have it otherwise.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning:** Discussion of Dennis' lack of will to live, and the potential consequences thereof. Please see notes at the end of the chapter for more information
> 
> **Spoiler Warning:** Spoilers for the ending plot of _The Smoke_

The last week had been rather more stressful than either Harry or Eggsy had really accounted for. 

While they'd agreed for their wedding to be a small and intimate affair in the manor's gardens, when it came to the rest of the details they'd found themselves at a bit of a loss – in the sense that both Eggsy and Harry cared only for the deed getting done, not particularly for what colours the fucking table cloths should be. 

On many an occasion, when Michelle and _Merlin_ of all people had started an argument over some triviality, Eggsy had turned to Harry and murmured “We shoulda just fuckin' _eloped_ ”, making the older man smile ruefully. 

The details of the wedding had not been the only stressful factor of the week, however. 

Not long after his concerning talk with Dennis, there'd come news of a devastating fire in Blackwall Tunnel, which sources told them that the White Watch out of the Mile End station had been dispatched to fight. Eggsy'd been near frantic waiting to hear from his cousin, watching news footage of the nearly all-consuming fire on Merlin's screens and clutching Mina's hand tightly, the girl's face pale and drawn in fear. 

Merlin had eventually been able to ascertain that Dennis had ended up in a local hospital, being treated for excessive smoke inhalation – When they'd arrived, Eggsy'd given the other boy a thorough dressing-down whilst Mina looked on sternly, wanting to know why Dennis would have removed his mask and oxygen in the middle of such an inferno.

Harry had looked on in silence, knowing from the way that the boy avoided his eyes that there'd been more to it than he was willing to share. 

“Eggsy.” Harry's quiet voice cut off his fiancé's tirade, the hospital room around them echoing slightly in the abrupt silence. “Might I have a few minutes alone with Dennis?” Eggsy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he nodded with a clenched jaw and followed the others as they awkwardly filed out the door. “May I?” He gestured at the chair by the bedside that Mina had been using, and waited for the boy's wary nod of his head before seating himself. 

“Listen, guv – ”

“If you'll forgive my rudeness in cutting you off, I would very much like to have my say first.” Dennis' jaw clicked shut with an audible snap of teeth, and when he remained silent, Harry took that as permission to proceed. “Eggsy has mentioned before that the knight that graces your arm was done in tribute to your Uncle, Eggsy's father.” 

“Yeah? So?”

“Lee Unwin was a candidate for Kingsman, some seventeen years before Eggsy was brought in. He very nearly secured the position of Lancelot, which I'm sure will explain his affinity for that knight in particular when he'd tell stories to you boys.” Dennis snorted, though they both knew the conversation to come would be far from amusing.

“Was why I wanted a knight with a lance, 'cos he seemed so stuck on him.” 

“Lee died during training, because he threw himself on a grenade in order to save myself, Merlin, and the man who would take his place. He was one of the bravest souls I've had the honour to meet, and his death left an aching emptiness in all that he left behind, myself included.” Dennis' face twisted, clearly seeing where Harry was going. 

“Losing you in the line of work would leave no less of an ache, on this I assure you – but losing you because of a reckless disregard for your own life would be far more devastating. The impact of such an event is unfathomable, and to do so is the height of _selfishness_.” The boy looked startled at the vehemence in Harry's voice.

“The fuck you mean – ”

“Do you imagine that those that love you would care not at all? Do you think for one moment that it wouldn't absolutely _break_ your mother, who has no one else? Or Eggsy, who thinks the world of you and treats you like a brother? What of Mina, who depends on you so heavily while she attempts to heal from her ordeal – you are the closest thing to safety that she has. Your aunt? Little Daisy? How do you expect us to explain to a _child_ that you are gone and not coming back, and it was because you didn't care enough about yourself and those around you?”

“I _do_ care about 'em! That's why – ”

“There is _no circumstance on this earth_ where they would be better off without you in their lives.” The boy remained silent, face turning red and tears welling in his eyes. He gasped wetly, hands clenching tightly in the hospital bedding. 

“I dunno what ta do, guv. I just... I can't handle this! I keep tryin' ta make up for what I done, and it's never good enough! I _can't_...” 

“Let me help you.”

“Fuckin'... _how_?! How can you help with any o' this? I called the cops, was gonna tell 'em what I done and let them take me away when they showed, but Kev wouldn't _let_ me; then the tunnel fire happened, and I figured that if I saved Kev's girl than maybe I'd be doin' _somethin'_ useful, and I went runnin' into the fire and I gave her my mask. I was gonna... I _told_ Kev to just leave me there, but he wouldn't _listen_!” Harry moved to sit himself on the bedside, pulling gently until the boy's face was buried in his shoulder. He gave Dennis a few moments to calm, before he spoke in a level and quiet voice. 

“Let me have you moved to our Medical ward, to begin with – we can care for your smoke inhalation far better than an over-taxed public hospital.” He felt the nod against his shoulder, giving his arm a slight squeeze. “After that, I would very much like for you to see Gaius. While I perfectly understand the urge to keep one's problems to oneself in order not to feel like a burden on others, this has obviously reached the stage of intervention being a necessity.” There was silence for a long, drawn out moment, before Dennis sniffed harshly and sighed, pulling back away from Harry's shoulder. 

“You really think he can help?”

“I _promise_ you that he can. Kingsman only accepts the best, after all.” 

“...Alright.” Harry felt something clenched in fear deep within him ease at the acceptance, letting go of the breath he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding. 

“Thank you, Dennis.”

* * *

Eggsy paced outside the hospital room impatiently, wondering what the two left inside were talking about. 

He just didn't understand.

They'd been told that Dennis was in being treated for excessive smoke inhalation, so badly that the only way he could've gotten it was if he'd taken off his mask inside the tunnel fire for some fucking reason. But... _why_? Why would he do that? Sure, he could see Dennis being the type to want to help someone else by giving them the oxygen, but professional firefighters were trained to _not do that exact fucking thing_. 

So why would he? It was driving Eggsy mad, and Mina too from the look of her. 

His head snapped around at the sound of the door opening, Dennis dressed in his own trackies that they'd brought him instead of the ugly hospital gown and leaning a bit on Harry for support. Harry shot a look to Merlin, who quickly got tapping on his tablet; Eggsy didn't have long to wonder what that was about, as a nurse came running at the sight of her patient dressed to leave.

“What d'you think you're doing?! He's not fit to go home yet!” 

“Excuse me, nurse.” Merlin cut in smoothly. “I'm Doctor Emrys; we're moving the young man to our facility for private care – I believe if you check your system, you'll find all the necessary formalities have been looked after.” He gave the nurse a winning smile that Eggsy hadn't even known the dour Scotsman capable of, as she frowned. 

“Wait here.”

“Certainly, madam.” Eggsy watched in bemusement as she consulted the nursing station's computer, her face smoothing out as she obviously found what she was looking for. 

“Alright, I see you have; sorry about that, Doctor.”

“On the contrary, your dedication to your patients is commendable.” Without much further ado, they shimmied Dennis out to the kerb where a private ambulance was already waiting. 

“You work fuckin' quickly...” Dennis muttered as they loaded him in, Merlin smirking at him until the doors closed, leaving the rest of them to head back to the mansion in a Kingsman cab. 

It was later that night, after they'd seen Dennis settled back in Mina's room in Medical and taken in some supper, that Eggsy decided it was time to get serious.

“What the fuck's been goin' on, Harry.” He knew that the statement would need no further explanation, and fixed the older man with a stern look. Harry sighed tiredly, and Eggsy gave him a moment to get his thoughts in order. 

“I promised you that I would keep nothing from you anymore, and I wish to keep that promise...”

“I'm sensing a ' _but_ '.” 

“ _However_ , I also gave my word to Dennis that I would not speak of it.” Harry looked troubled, like he was really afraid that Eggsy was going to make him choose which promise to break. He sighed, rubbing fingers across his forehead where he could feel a headache waiting. 

“Your word's your word – if you promised him you wouldn't tell, than I ain't gonna make you go back on that.” He grumbled. “Just... Is he gonna be alright? Do I need ta worry?” Harry let out a relieved breath, and at any other time Eggsy probably would have found it hilarious – but definitely not under _those_ circumstances. 

“I have convinced him to speak with Gaius. I believe that with the old man's intervention, _yes_ , he will be alright.” Eggsy nodded in understanding, but still felt a prick of... _something_. “You still look troubled, dearest.” 

“It's just... Not that you ain't a great listener and all, Harry, but why'd he feel like he could talk ta you and not _me_?” Harry took him by the hand, squeezing gently. 

“Personally, I believe it's because he looks up to you a great deal, and you're very important to him; I think he was worried that you would judge him for... the nature of the secret.” Eggsy pulled a disbelieving face, but Harry only raised a brow. “He told me once that you were better than him because you were of a strong personality – that he thought you were stronger than _anybody_.” He swallowed around a sudden well of emotion; he'd never known that Dennis thought of him like that. “I believe that he will tell you his secret himself, if you only give him some time.” 

“Yeah, alright.” A few moments passed in comfortable silence, before Harry spoke again.

“Might I ask you a question?” 

“Sure, love.” 

“I've noticed that Dennis seems particularly... self-conscious. I'd noted a few times that he seems uncomfortable being seen shirtless – with the exception of a few people – and I was wondering if there was some reason for it?” 

“Got defensive when you helped him into his trackies earlier, did he?” 

“A bit, yes – though I'd noted the behaviour a time or two previously as well.” Eggsy sighed, rubbing a hand tiredly over his short hair. 

“He thinks he's fat.” He said bluntly, and Harry _tsk_ ed. “He was always a bit more... _jiggly_ than me, but that mostly was because I had me gymnastics and then the free-runnin'. It ain't like he's outta shape or nothin', but because he's got a few stone on him he thinks he's overweight.” He couldn't help a bitter mutter of, “Not that Gog or his fuckin' _father_ helped there...” 

“What do you mean?”

“His worthless piece o' shit father used ta call him 'Chubs', like it were a nickname. Dennis always hated it, but the more he got mad about it, the more his dad thought it was funny. Eventually Gog heard and started callin' him _Chubs_ too, because he's a fuckin' prick and a half.” Harry mouth turned down in displeased anger.

“I can imagine that's where his body issues likely sprang from in the first place.” 

“You got that right. Maybe Gaius can help him with that too, I guess.” 

It wasn't an easy sleep that they settled down for, that night – but privately Eggsy thought that maybe they were at least _headed_ for better things now.

* * *

It was a couple days later, and Harry was feeling cautiously optimistic. 

Dennis seemed to be on the mend, with only a slightly persistent cough, and Harry had noted that even though the boy'd had only two sessions with Gaius in the interim, he was looking far more... emotionally steady. He'd gone out earlier that morning, claiming he had somewhere important to be, and Harry'd needed to suppress the urge to keep him under a watchful eye. 

Merlin and Michelle had finally come to a consensus that the table cloths for the wedding should be a subtle lavender, with darker plum accents in the décor, and Harry was content with the choice as he knew Eggsy preferred the tones. Eggsy, for his part, had only muttered “Fuckin' _finally_ ” at the end of the squabbling, and taken the rest in stride. 

Speaking of his fiancé, Harry'd decided he needed a small break from Kingsman's endless paperwork, and had gone in search of the young man around the mansion. He'd made an effort to check Eggsy's regular _haunts_ , as it were, but had turned up empty in all. He'd been almost resigned to returning to his office when he'd caught the faintest notes of some kind of music, following the sound out of curiosity. He'd pushed open the door to an empty ballroom, hearing Eggsy's exasperated sigh mixed with Mina's husky laughter.

“This is _stupid_ , girl. I ain't ever gonna get the hang o' it.”

“Oh, come _on_ – he'll love it and you know it! Just try it again.” 

Harry leaned silently up against the frame of the open door, having not been spotted by the room's occupants as of yet, and raised a brow in interest. Eggsy was clad only in a loose pair of trackies, his bare torso deliciously on display and already covered in a light sheen of sweat. _Whatever it is they're up to, they've obviously already been at it a while_. Mina, for her part, was dressed in simple leggings and what appeared to be a cropped sports top whilst her long, dark hair flowed free. It was perhaps the most at ease Harry had ever seen her, and the sight alone made him happy for her. 

“Where did you say you learned this shit again?” Eggsy asked, obviously stalling. 

“I told you my mum was a Turkish immigrant,” She laughed in reply. “she loved teaching me different things about her culture.” The girl's face turned sad for a moment, before she forcefully pushed it away. “Now come on!” She clicked a button on a little remote, the music starting up once again, and he had to suppress a smile when Eggsy groaned. 

It became obvious very quickly that she was attempting to teach Eggsy to [belly dance](http://mauzymorn.tumblr.com/post/159196471163/eggsy-could-be-a-belly-dancer), and Harry would be liar if he said that the smooth rolling of the young man's hips and [undulation of his taught stomach](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEnubg1hAgU) hadn't thoroughly caught his interest. So much so that when Merlin's voice suddenly came over his glasses, it actually startled him.

“You were supposed to be looking over the quarterly budget, _not_ lusting after your fiancé.” The disturbed quality to the man's complaint made Harry have to bite into his own lip in order not to laugh and make his presence known. “Canna you save that for _after_ the wedding?” Distantly over the connection, Harry heard the sound of some sort of alert. “Wait a moment.” There was some tapping, and when Merlin's voice returned it was of a far more grimly serious nature. “Harry, I've just gotten notified that there's a fire at Churchill Estates.” 

They'd agreed early on, Merlin and he, that they would keep a close eye on Dennis and his mother's estate building – Harry would be damned before he'd let any more strife and anguish tarnish the lives of the two. Sighing heavily, he stepped into the ballroom and drew the attention of its carefree dancers.

“Harry!”

“Oh, Mr Hart, this was supposed to be a surprise for you!” Mina pouted, before the both of them seemed to sense that there was something going on.

“I am sorry to have disturbed, but I've just been informed by Merlin that there's been a fire at the Churchill Estates.” Eggsy's face paled as he took a step forward.

“Auntie Rae?” Harry could feel his own expression twist as he reached a hand forward.

“Best not to get too worked up until we know the details. I was thinking that if the two of you would be so good as to put on some warmer clothing, we'd take a drive over there directly and see for ourselves.” 

Though it felt like it took them a lifetime to get there, it must have been only mere moments later. Mina and Eggsy both had practically tumbled out of the Kingsman cab, Harry following more smoothly, though no less in haste. The three of them breathed simultaneous sighs of relief as they suddenly spotted Dennis walking away from the building, [carrying a young girl in his arms](http://68.media.tumblr.com/74a8fcd306bf188cce090ee7db176f9e/tumblr_nks9nw2KxD1qccp0co3_250.gif) and with soot on his face. 

Once he'd deposited his small charge to the paramedics that had arrived, he turned at Eggsy's shout of his name. Holding up a hand in the universal symbol of _wait_ , the boy collected his mother from the crowd of onlookers and brought the two of them slowly over. 

“Auntie Rae, you alright?!” Eggsy asked, obviously taking in the shaking of the poor woman's frame and the shock on her face. 

“Allow me, madam.” Harry intoned softly, not wanting to startle her, before carefully laying his suit jacket over her shoulders. If she truly was suffering shock, she would need the added warmth. 

“Oh, I... bless you.” She stuttered, blinking at his fine clothing for a moment as if only just realizing that Harry didn't quite look like he belonged there. 

“This is Harry, mum.” Asbo murmured, rubbing his hands over her arms. “Eggsy's Harry.” 

“Oh! I... well, thank you moreso then.” 

“What the fuck happened?!” Eggsy asked as Mina moved to hug the older woman, murmuring soothing things to her while Dennis wrapped arms around them both. 

“Gog's dead.” They all went still at the announcement. “His flat caught on fire, and he didn't make it out.” Dennis' voice was that particular kind of emotionless that meant _overwhelmed_ , and Harry could see that he was struggling with the day's events. 

“Your mother's flat?” Harry had the presence of mind to ask, feeling his shoulders ease when Mrs Severs merely waived a hand in dismissal. 

“I'm the next corridor down, mine's fine.” She let out a shaking sigh, turning her head a bit more into her son's shoulder. 

“They'll want everyone out until they can have a good look at the wreckage.” Dennis murmured, staring at the building intently. 

“Might I offer our hospitality for the night, then?” Harry spoke up into the ensuing silence. “Mine and Eggsy's home here in town unfortunately does not have much space, but I've a larger building outside of the city that I've... _inherited_ that could readily house us all.” Mrs Severs blinked at him, and Harry was uncertain if he'd made a mistake. “It's where we were planning to have the wedding.” He offered inanely. 

“Oh... how lovely.” She replied faintly, before giving him a shaking smile. “I suppose if you wouldn't mind having us, Denny and I could pack some things.” 

“Why don't Mina and I come give you a hand, Auntie Rae.” Eggsy said, as his eyes meaningfully bounced between Harry and Dennis. To his credit, the other boy merely rolled his own eyes. Once they were alone, Harry turned more fully to him.

“Anything I should know?” 

“Did you tell him?” There was an edge to Dennis' voice, like he waiting to see if he should be angry. 

“He asked if I knew what was wrong with you; I told him that I'd given my word to you not to say anything, and he accepted that answer. I hope you understand that I was not willing to lie to Eggsy.” Dennis blew out a breath, shoving his balled fists into the pockets of his jacket. _It's like he's constantly preparing for a fight_. 

“That's alright, I guess. Don't really want ya in the habit o' lyin' to me cousin, since you're gettin' married and all.” Harry returned his rueful smile. “Rosa – the lady I told you about, that Gog wanted to mess with, and it was her baby that died – she had a little ceremony for the tyke. Planted a nice tree for her and everythin'. Didn't really feel like I deserved to be there, but I'd promised her I'd go. Gog was bein' a dickhead about the whole thing, and Rosa was... Rosa was so fuckin' _angry_.”

“Warranted, from the sound of things.”

“Well, yeah. But more'n that, more than I ever figured on. She was the one that set fire to Gog's flat.” His voice had dropped to barely a whisper, and Harry could see that he didn't want others to overhear them. “Think she was gettin' even; like _an eye for an eye_ kind of shit, you know? But... Em was in there too. Gog's little sister – she ain't done nothin' to deserve that.”

“The young girl you were carrying when we arrived?” 

“Yeah. Me and Kev, we got her out. But...”

“What is it that's troubling you?”

“Kev could've saved Gog. But he didn't – he left him in there to die. I can't... I mean I can't really blame him, considerin' that Gog's the whole reason Kev got so badly hurt in the first fire, but... What's to give us the right? To decide who lives and who dies? How does doin' that make him any better than Gog himself?” The young man looked so conflicted, it made Harry's heart ache. “He told me that we were good men... But how does a good man leave someone to burn up in a fire, when he could've saved him?” Harry put an arm around the boy's tight shoulders, squeezing in reassurance. 

“I'm afraid I don't have an answer for that, seeing as how my profession lends itself to dubious morality on a constant basis, but I _will_ say this – You, young Mister Severs, are indeed a _good man_. I believe truly that you go about the things you do with the best intentions in mind, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” 

Dennis swallowed roughly, giving out a slight cough when his still-healing lungs caught too much air. He nudged Harry's side lightly with his elbow, but made no move to escape the older man's arm. 

“Thanks, guv. Think I'd like to stick around and see if I can live up ta that.” 

“I am _immensely_ glad to hear it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are ever in the situation where you feel like things are hopeless, or if you think that the lives of those around you would be better without your presence, _please_ consider speaking to someone and seeking help. 
> 
> Suicide is _never_ the answer. 
> 
> My father committed suicide four years ago, and it utterly destroyed my family. You are more important than you think you are. **You matter.**
> 
> [List of International Suicide Hotlines](http://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines)


	27. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Just a note:** Some people were asking about Harry inviting Dennis' mum to the mansion in the last chapter, as well as having civilians there for the wedding. The way I envision the Kingsman mansion is that the upper floors look like a regular stately home (with the spy shit being hidden like the picture frame computer screen, etc), and that the more _obvious_ stuff - gun range, Medical ward, R &D, Merlin's tech branch - are on the lower levels underground, which obviously wedding guests and the like wouldn't be given access to. Just to clear it up!

_Six Months Before the Wedding_

“If Eggsy's got his mum givin' him away and Roxy standin' up fer him, who're you gonna have?” Harry blinked at Dennis' sudden entry to his office, his brain taking a moment to catch up to what he'd just been asked.

“Oh, well... I'd asked Alistair if he'd stand up for me, seeing as Merlin will be busy officiating the ceremony.” Dennis frowned while dropping into the chair across from Harry's desk in a manner not unlike how Eggsy usually did, making Harry's lips twitch with the want to smile. 

“Who's gonna give ya away then?”

“No one, I suppose. I'd just assumed that I'd wait at the altar for Eggsy ahead of time.” Dennis scowled, and Harry was entirely befuddled as to just where he'd managed to misstep in the conversation.

“He can't be the only one bein' given away, he's not a _girl_ – that shit's gotta be _equal_ , guv!” Harry blinked at his vehemence.

“I'm the sole surviving member of my family, I'm afraid. There is no one.” He raised a bemused brow when Dennis scowled more, before slamming a palm to Harry's desk and standing again.

“That's settled then.” He said in a firm and resolute tone, and Harry was still struggling to catch up to the wandering shape of the young man's thoughts. 

“I'm afraid I don't follow, dear boy.” Dennis jabbed a finger toward Harry's face in the air.

“I'm givin' ya away. No arguin', old man.” 

With that, he turned on his heel and stomped from the room. _Well, then_.

* * *

_Merlin stood waiting in the centre of the gardens, the guests laid out in chairs before him as Roxy and Alistair waited on opposite sides._

_As the music swelled, the grooms entered – Eggsy from the left, grinning proudly with his mother on his arm who was looking all of five seconds from happy tears, and Harry from the right, arm-in-arm with the young Mister Severs and smiling serenely even as the boy himself jutted his jaw higher in the air, as though silently daring anyone to argue his right to be performing such an important task._

_Michelle kissed both grooms on the cheeks, before joining Roxy in standing at Eggsy's side, whilst Dennis gave his cousin a hearty embrace. Merlin thoroughly enjoyed the shock on Harry's face when the young man turned and gave him the same, before resolutely placing himself beside Alistair. He wondered if Harry was only **just** realizing how attached the boy had become to him._

_Looking down, he couldn't help but smile at the little angel who'd placed herself between them – Daisy clung to Eggsy's pant leg with the hand that wasn't occupied holding the pillow bearing their rings, looking pleased with her role in the wedding and that she got to be in the middle of it all. She smiled up at Harry when he dropped a hand to smooth back some her curls, and Merlin could feel his stern demeanor waver, just the slightest bit._

_“Let us begin.”_

* * *

_Four Months Before the Wedding_

“Oh, bugger it all!” Eggsy startled at Harry's outburst, since they'd been sitting in near-silence for almost an hour as Harry read through Percival's latest after-action report and Eggsy had immersed himself in [_The Epic of Gilgamesh_](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epic_of_Gilgamesh). 

“Er... everythin' alright, love? Usually Percival don't give you no trouble.” He lowered the book fully to his lap when Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes with one hand. 

“It's not that, dearest. It's... I've only just realized that we have yet to buy you a wedding ring.” Oh, right. Eggsy'd forgotten that he'd need one too. 

“S'alright. I mean, we still got lots of time, yeah?” He paused when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Should we be gettin' ya another one?”

“Another?”

“Well... like with girls it's easy, yeah? You buy 'em one, and then they get t'other on the ceremony day. Are we supposed ta give you a second one, since I already gave ya the first?” Harry laughed lightly, shaking his head.

“I think the one will suffice, my dear. I'll just remove it ahead of time to join yours for the ceremony. The problem still remains of finding one for you, however – would you prefer to pick it out yourself?” He remembered the swell of pride and love that he'd gotten when Harry had been so obviously pleased with something that Eggsy had put so much thought into, just for him. 

“Nah. Think I'd like for you to pick it and surprise me.” Harry glanced back down at his tablet, a soft smile on his face that Eggsy rarely got to see.

“As you wish, my love.”

* * *

_Roxy couldn't contain her smile as she stood to Eggsy's side with Michelle._

_After everything that Eggsy had been through, he deserved to have this – to be happy like this. She watched as Merlin called for the exchange of rings, little Daisy letting go of Eggsy's pant leg and holding the pillow carefully as her brother reached down to take Harry's black and gold ring. His hands were so obviously taking care to be gentle while sliding it back in place, as the older man had been having difficulty with his arthritis again that morning._

_Harry's fingers shook slightly as he in turn reached for Eggsy's ring, and Roxy wasn't altogether certain if it was because of pain in his hands or just nerves for what he was about to do, but he turned to Eggsy with a smile all the same._

_Roxy had been a bit dubious when Harry'd first shown her the ring he'd chosen for Eggsy, she'll admit – the almost vintage feel of it and the[patterned etchings](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/87/92/7e/87927e89cef31c2d302b5facb451e4ea.jpg) hadn't at all seemed to be Eggsy's style – and she'd been worried when it came time to show the ring to Eggsy himself. But, much to her surprise, his face had softened into a look of absolute adoration and pleasure and it'd been clear that he loved the thing wholly._

_Looking at their rings now, side-by-side as Harry clasped Eggsy's left hand with his own as he slid the ring in place with his right, Roxy could understand why._

_It wasn't about the rings suiting their **own** style – it was about having a memento, a reminder, of the other. Roxy knew that every time Harry looked at his black and gold ring, he thought of nothing but Eggsy; she could now see that it would be the same every time Eggsy looked down at his more traditional piece – it was Harry, through and through._

_The cuteness of it was probably going to give her hives._

* * *

_Three Months Before the Wedding_

“So, er... You two given any thought ta names?” Harry had a wild moment where he was about to ask Michelle who was having a baby when it suddenly clicked in what she meant. He and Eggsy exchanged a baffled look, before the younger man shrugged.

“Hadn't really thought about it yet, to be honest, mum.” Eggsy eyed him for a moment, and Harry couldn't quite discern what it was he was contemplating. 

“Haven't _thought_ about it?! Eggsy, babes... Yer gettin' married in _three months_. Now _is_ the time to think about these things.” 

It certainly _did_ bear consideration; should they merely keep their own surnames? Have Harry become an Unwin, or perhaps Eggsy become a Hart? Or would hyphenation be the way to go? Unwin-Hart, or Hart-Unwin? A queasy feeling began in Harry's stomach, something almost akin to _dread_ pulling at him. He looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing that Michelle had left the room and Eggsy was looking at him seriously. 

“You ain't lookin' happy, love.” 

“I... I suppose I'm not.” Harry knew that his tone was reflecting his own confusion; he was the farthest thing from happy with the topic at hand, but he didn't for the life of him know _why_. 

“Alright, let's suss it out, yeah?” The younger man said calmly. Bless Eggsy and his ability to read Harry like an open book. “What's got ya twisted?” 

“I just... there seems to be so many options. Should either of us change names completely, or hyphenate, or what _order_ to hyphenate in, and – ”

“And somethin' about changin' names has got ya feelin'... not good.” Harry swallowed, fearful that the conversation would devolve into an argument. Unbidden, the ghost of a memory rose in his mind, his mother's voice for once sounding resigned, rather than reproachful.

_You're the last of the Harts, my son. I suppose our name will die with you_.

“It doesn't matter, dearest. I'm being silly is all.” 

“Ain't silly, Harry. Nothin' that gets you worried is _silly_. This got somethin' to do with your family?” He nodded shamefully, inexplicably feeling like he was letting Eggsy down, somehow. “Tell me.” 

“It's just... I'm the last of my family. As is, with no children, the Harts will end with me – I suppose a part of me is balking at prematurely doing so by changing the name; it may not have been the _best_ family, but it was still _mine_.”

“So keep it.” Harry blinked in shock at Eggsy's simple words. 

“But, would you not prefer – ”

“I'd prefer a husband that's happy, thanks.” _Husband_. Lord, he was excited to get used to hearing that. “It don't matter the reasons _why_ keepin' yer name is important to ya, it only matters that it _is_. So you stay Harry Hart – and I'll get to figurin' out what I wanna do.” Harry was so overwhelmed with love for him, at the understanding and care that Eggsy consistently showed him.

“I feel as though it would be selfish to agree...” 

“Harry. Take a mo' and think about what you just said to me: that it would be selfish of you to _keep yer own fuckin' name_. See now, that – _that's_ fuckin' silly.”

* * *

_“Ladies, Gentlemen, and distinguished guests – I now have the honour of introducing to you, Mister Harold Fitzwilliam Hart, and Mister Gary 'Eggsy' Unwin-Hart.”_

_Michelle saw the brief look of shock and awe that fluttered across Harry's face at hearing Eggsy's choice of name for the first time. Her boy had been adamant at keeping his decision a secret; he'd told her that it was important to Harry to keep his family name, and that after some thought Eggsy had decided that it was equally important for him to keep his own. But, on the other hand, he'd wanted to acknowledge the new bond between them – so he'd chosen to keep both names instead._

_A bloody romantic, her boy was._

_Michelle swiped away happy tears as Eggsy wrapped a hand 'round Harry's tie and yanked the taller man down for their first kiss as newlyweds. She could remember doing just that very thing to Lee on their wedding day, and the memory was bittersweet._

_She was sure that had he lived, Lee would've wanted to kick Harry's arse to hell and back for having designs on his son – hell, she probably would've herself, if it hadn't been for everything that had gone on in the last few years – but had Lee lived, all of their lives would've been so different. There was no point in playing with 'might have been', when it wasn't a possibility anyways._

_Michelle liked to think that at the very least Lee would be proud of who Eggsy'd become, and that their boy had managed to make a happy life for himself, even if it included a wildly older husband._

* * *

_One Hour Before the Wedding_

“Eggsy.” He turned at the sound of his sister's voice, still in the middle of getting his tie on.

“Yes, my girl?” Daisy was looking like the little princess they frequently called her, the soft lavender of her dress matching the crown of flowers resting along golden curls that Eggsy had made for her; the only mar to the image was the troubled pout pulling at her lips. “What's the matter, love?” She fidgeted until he tucked the end of the completed tie under his waistcoat and lifted her up for a cuddle. 

“Beth'ny in my class says that when her mum married her step-daddy, they didn't spend so much time with her no more. Are you and Ri-Ri gonna stop playin' with me after you's get married?” He suppressed the smile that wanted to break out, worried that she would think he wasn't taking her seriously. 

“No, Flower; nothin's gonna really change after the weddin', babe. Harry and I are gonna play with you just the same as we always have, don't you worry.”

“Okay. Is that 'cos you and Harry are both boys and can't have a baby?” Eggsy blinked, feeling like the conversation had just taken a complete left-turn.

“ _What_.” 

“Beth'ny said that her mummy don't have time for her 'cos she had a new baby. Boys can't have babies together, so does that mean you'll play with me 'cos I'm all you got?” 

“That's not... _Jesus Christ, my life_ – look, boys that marry each other can still have kids, they just sometimes gotta have some help with it, like adoptin' or summat. And that ain't even... That ain't somethin' to worry about, alright? Me and Harry are gonna still love you just the same as we already do because you're _you_ – not just 'cos we're stuck with ya or whatever it is you've gotten into your head.” She nuzzled her face into the curve of Eggsy's neck, smelling like lavender and violets and sticky fruit juice that she'd probably snuck while their mum hadn't been looking. 

“Mum says when I was little I called you daddy.” Eggsy groaned, looking up at the ceiling as though asking for divine intervention from the conversation.

“Don't remind me.” Daisy giggled, giving him a smacking kiss on the curve of his jaw. 

“I like you bein' my bruva.” 

“I _am_ yer big bruv, you twerp.” He gave a small dance around the room, listening to her laugh, before pausing and leaning down, as if to tell her a secret. “Think you can keep yer mouth shut, if I tell ya somethin' important?” 

“Duh!” She exclaimed, as though scandalized that he'd ever think otherwise.

“I got a weddin' surprise all set up for Ri-Ri.” He pulled an old key from his pocket, showing it to her. 

“Where's that go?”

Eggsy grinned.

* * *

_Daisy dropped the fancy pillow when Eggsy picked her up, but she didn't think that they minded since it was empty now anyways._

_All of the people were clapping, and Eggsy and Ri-Ri were smiling, and mum was crying and laughing and looking a bit silly._

_She grinned big and wide when Eggsy kissed her on one cheek and Ri-Ri kissed her on the other, the camera in front of them flashing. Today was a big day, and Eggsy'd told her that she had a real important job for it. He'd said they couldn't get married without her._

_Daisy was real proud that she did so good. Ri-Ri told her so._

_She'd always thought that the Big House looked a bit like a castle, and Eggsy'd told her that Ri-Ri was its king and she was their little princess._

_Today was a good day._

* * *

_After the Wedding_

Eggsy looked unaccountably nervous, now that they'd gotten through their feasting and guests were beginning to meander away.

Michelle and Daisy had gone back to their own home, Dennis had escorted his mother and Mina to the Churchill Estates, Jamal had proclaimed that he would see a thoroughly sloshed Ryan back to his own flat on Rowley Way, Roxy had taken a beflowered J.B. back to hers to watch over for the night, and the various agents and Kingsman staff that had been able to attend had either gone to their homes or out to assignment. 

The festivities were over, the night was dark, and they'd both been thoroughly admonished by Gloria when they'd hinted at wanting to stay behind to give the staff a hand at the cleaning up. Harry wasn't certain if it was the thought of a wedding night that was making Eggsy suddenly ill-at-ease, or something else. 

A small part of him worried that the young man was having regrets, but he sternly told that part to fuck off, because Eggsy would _never_. Harry was still working on his sense of self-worth, sue him. 

“To home then, Mister Unwin-Hart?” Harry was still marvelling that Eggsy had chosen to take on his name in such a way; he'd assumed that since he'd been reluctant to do so himself, that Eggsy would merely remain 'Unwin' and that would be that. 

The generous soul of the boy would never cease to amaze him. 

“Not just yet, yeah?” Eggsy's answering smile shook slightly, before he grimaced. 

“...Is everything quite alright?” Harry waited worriedly while Eggsy sighed out a breath.

“Yeah. It's just... I got a weddin' gift for ya, and I'm only just now thinkin' that it might've been a bad idea.” The tension that had crept into Harry's shoulders suddenly melted away in relief.

“Nonsense, dearest. I'm certain that whatever it is you've gotten, I will cherish.”

“Er... that's sort of it, though. I didn't exactly _get_ you somethin', it's more... what I _did_.” Harry's curiosity was thoroughly peaked. Eggsy's eyes flickered over his face, perhaps looking for something in his expression, before he swallowed and squared his shoulders. “Right. Just gonna do it then.” He probably shouldn't have been finding the nervousness of the younger man – his _husband_ – quite so amusing, but _honestly_ how bad could it be?

He allowed Eggsy to guide him into the passenger seat of a waiting Kingsman cab, turning toward him when he got in the driver's position but failed to start the vehicle. He waited patiently while Eggsy stared out the windscreen for a moment, hands clenched around the wheel. Obviously having made up his mind about something, he turned to Harry with a serious look on his face.

“Harry, do ya trust me?” How ridiculous.

“Of course I do, my dear.” He held himself still while Eggsy reached out to undo his tie, raising a brow with the soft sound of the silk pulling free of his collar. 

“I'm not gonna... I ain't gonna _do_ nothin', I just want it to be a surprise.” The tie hung limply in the young man's hand, and Harry knew that Eggsy's issues with consent were coming into play.

“It may not make the most adequate of blindfolds, but I promise to keep my eyes closed beneath it in order to preserve the suspense.” The smaller man let out a relieved breath, obviously glad to have Harry's permission to cover his eyes. 

“I promise I'll take it off soon as we're there.” Darkness overcame him as he closed his lids beneath the makeshift blindfold, reaching out to squeeze gently around Eggsy's knee in reassurance. 

“I'm fine, my dear, and eager to see what it is you've done for me.” He thought he heard a muttered _We'll see about that_ , but chose to ignore it. Whatever Eggsy was nervous about, Harry was sure it would be alright. 

He let himself sort of _drift_ while waiting out the ride to whatever it was that their destination was going to be. Once the cab finally stopped, and Eggsy came around to help Harry out, he was stuck for a moment with... _something_. Almost like there was a smell on the air that was familiar, but that he couldn't _quite_ pin-down enough to put a name to it. 

Eggsy took him gently by the hand, leading him from pavement to grass, to gravel path. There was the sound of a key in a lock, then the creak of old hinges. They walked a few paces more before Eggsy drew him to a halt, and Harry breathed deeply. 

Gardenias, roses, lilies. All manner of plants and flowers that he didn't know the names of, but Eggsy certainly would; he could smell their delicate fragrance drifting in the air, and it only made him all the more curious as to just what his husband had prepared for him. 

“Er... gonna take this off now.” He kept his eyes closed as the soft fabric of the tie slithered away from his face, enjoying the brief press of Eggsy's thumb across his cheek in an absentminded caress. “You can open 'em now.” His voice was still nervous, so Harry opened his eyes slowly. 

The area around them was lit softly with fairy lights that had been strung across wooden pergolas, the dreamlike glow lighting upon flowers of all colours and kinds. It was a [gorgeous garden](http://pamela-crawford.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/gazebo-palm-beach-5-pamela-crawford.jpg), Eggsy's loving touch laid out upon every petal, and Harry wouldn't have known where he was if he hadn't turned whilst taking in the beauty and paused sharply at the sight of his childhood home suddenly before him. 

“I... It'd made me kind of sad, when you'd brought me here that day, to see the garden so choked up with weeds and such, not a flower to be seen. And I... well I guess I got to thinkin' after that about what it might've been like growin' up here, and wonderin' if it'd been a pretty place for you when you was a kid. I remembered you tellin' me that you used to like to find bugs when you was a tyke, and I figured you probably found them out here, yeah?” 

Harry was speechless. There wasn't a thought in his head, not a breath in his body or a word upon his tongue. 

“And I know that I shouldn've nicked the key to the gate without askin' ya, and it just occurred to me earlier that maybe you left this place the way it was for a reason, and that maybe me touchin' it was just gonna make you angry, and I ain't touched anythin' except the gardens, I swear Harry, and – ”

“Eggsy.” The poor man looked on the verge of panic, and Harry had thankfully found the wherewithal to speak. Pulling him into a tight embrace, Harry pressed a firm kiss to his beloved mouth, feeling the tension in Eggsy's body finally relax. “Thank you.” 

“I love ya, Harry.”

“And I you, dearest.”

They clasped hands as Eggsy lead them around the reinvented garden, naming the flowers for Harry while he marvelled at his _true_ gift – Eggsy himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come chat with me on [tumblr](http://mauzymorn.tumblr.com)!
> 
> **Chapter 4:** I couldn't resist the tie-in! Did anyone else notice that they apparently decided to cover up Taron's beauty mark for playing Eggsy, or was that just me? So, a few things with Asbo - don't look for any real cohesiveness with the plot of _The Smoke_ ; I basically took only what would suit my needs to fit in with this particular storyline. Additionally, sort-of NSFW warning: one of the links I provide in the chapter goes to an image of Taron's very shapely behind to show Asbo's dragon tattoo. Enjoy!
> 
> **Chapter 9:** In regards to Asbo's mum - I couldn't for the _life_ of me remember whether or not we were ever given a first name for her; to the best of my knowledge, Gog and Kev both only refer to her as "Mrs Severs" or "Mrs S" on the show. I was too busy writing to take the time to go back and check this - so I've just sort of made up a name for her in the meantime; if anyone knows whether she was canonically given a name, could you please let me know so I that I can fix it?
> 
> **Chapter 10:** Roxy finds a young woman handcuffed to a cot; it will be heavily implied that the woman has suffered non-con at the hands of her captors, however I will _not_ be going into graphic detail. Please be aware that this content may still be upsetting for some readers. Parallels will be drawn between this and Eggsy's past from _Laid to Rest_ , and ultimately Eggsy and the woman will decide that he is the best one to care for her. For those questioning my decision to have an abused woman feel at ease with a man, I will have an explanation for this reasoning in the next chapter, so please be patient.
> 
> **Chapter 20:** Some vague spoilers for _The Smoke_ as I'm bringing in a bit more of Dennis' defeatist state of mind near the end of the series, which also leads into the trigger warning for this chapter - some of the statements that Dennis makes could loosely be taken as suicide idealization, in that he doesn't really care much whether he lives or dies. (I think there's an actual term for this mindset, but it's escaping me at the moment)


End file.
